A slow and arduous crawl became a slightly uneven walk. In just a few minutes they were at the place where the rock fracture along which the stream ran came out onto the shore. Chrissie heard a loud and changing roar ahead of them. Tarbush, walking slightly in front, paused and peered out from the sheltering fringe of plants.

“The wind has died, but I don’t think the sea knows it yet. Look at that.”

Chrissie, moving to his side, saw the origin of the unknown roar. The surface of the sea was covered in foam and gigantic white-capped breakers that rolled in endless array to batter the shore. The shore itself was diminished, its fifty meters of shingle reduced to a narrow strand between turbulent water and tangled vegetation. Nowhere, on sea or shore, was any sign of animal life.

“Well, with waves like that we can’t go back to the Hero’s Return any time soon,” Tarbush said. “We’d be smashed to pieces before we got beyond the line of breakers. What now?”

Chrissie pointed to the left. “That way. I wasn’t paying particular attention, but if we had landed farther to the right surely we’d all have noticed that reddish hump.”

Tarbush nodded. “I think so. Left it is, then.”

They set off along the strip of shore, alert and ready to jump for the cover of the shoreline plants if anything moved. Chrissie glanced out to sea. If she had her sense of direction right, the Link entry point that had brought their ship to Limbo lay in that direction. She could see no sign of it. That seemed to confirm what the Malacostracans had said, that the Link opened and closed under their control. So how could humans or Stellar Group members possibly escape?

She was staring to the east, and the cloudy sky in that direction glowed a lurid and unpleasant yellow. Weather on Limbo was too alien and unfamiliar for her to read its indicators. Was the storm over, or did the present calm represent no more than a lull? It was tempting to use her suit communicator and try to reach Deb, Danny, or the ship, but the rule of radio silence applied more than ever now. The Malacostracans had advanced technology, different from anything Chrissie had ever seen or heard about.

At her side, Tarbush halted. He was on the shoreward side, scanning the plants there while she looked out to sea.

“This looks like the place where we went into the jungle when we first came ashore. If it isn’t, somebody else has flattened the plants.” He had turned, to walk carefully into the waist-high growth. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“Should we call to them?” Chrissie was stepping close behind. “You know Deb. If we come out on them unexpectedly she might blow us away.”

“What about the Malacostracans?” But it was Tarbush who raised his voice as he moved forward. “Deb? Danny? It’s us, Tarb and Chrissie. We’re fine, and we’re alone.”

In the past few minutes the wind had died completely. His voice was swallowed up by the silent sea of vegetation ahead.

“Deb? Danny?” And to Chrissie, in lower tones, “I don’t like this. We’re not far from where we left our supplies. They’d answer if they could.”

“Do you think the Malacostracans have taken over the camp?”

“I don’t know. But maybe we should have kept quiet. You stay here.”

“While you get caught and leave me on my own? Forget it.”

They advanced together through an unnatural morning stillness, following the faint line of the onshore party’s advance. When they came to the little cleared area surrounded by waist-high ferns, Chrissie bent to examine the supply cases.

“These look the way we left them. Except that somebody took something out of this one.”

“No signs of a struggle, no signs that the Malacostracans have been here.” Tarbush was prowling the perimeter of the camp site. “It looks as though Deb and Danny just upped and left us behind. Not very nice of them.”

“Where would they go?”

“Back to the ship. Look, suppose they made a trip to the Hero’s Return , to tell the others there what was going on.”

“Both of them?”

“You didn’t want to be left on your own. They expected to come right back here, but then the storm came up. They wouldn’t have been able to come ashore, any more than we could get past the breakers this morning. I bet that’s it. If we just settle down and wait here, they’ll be back. And if they don’t come by the time the sea is calmer, we can take off ourselves for the Hero’s Return.”

“No.” Chrissie had been nodding her head to agree when she noticed a familiar shape drifting across her field of view. “Get down, Tarb. Somebody’s looking for us.”

They left the clearing and crouched together under the mat of ferns. The tri-wing aircraft passed far off to the south, heading out to sea.

Tarbush slowly stood upright as the craft vanished in the distance. “It’s certainly one of their planes. But what makes you think it’s looking for us?”

“What makes you think it isn’t ?” Chrissie stood up, too, and headed for the supply cases. “I think we made a mistake by coming here. Our plan sounded good when we thought that Deb and Danny would be waiting for us, but they weren’t and now we don’t know what’s going on. The one thing we can be sure of is that the Malacostracans will look for us. When they do, they’ll find this campsite. It’s the worst possible place for us to stay.”

“Maybe. But do you know a better place?”

“I’m looking for one.” Chrissie had been rummaging, and she pulled out of a supply case one of the maps that Elke Siry had prepared from the orbital images. “Look, here’s the Malacostracan encampment. There’s where we came ashore. So here” — she placed her finger on the sheet — “is about where we must be now. What I’m suggesting is that we go back to the shore and find the stream channel. It doesn’t show on this image, because the plants grow right across and cover it. But from our point of view, that’s good. We can head upstream , and we’ll be hidden from anybody who flies over looking for us.”

“Suppose they use radar? That sees right through a canopy of vegetation.”

“Then they’re too smart for us, and we’re cooked. But if we can get far enough into the highlands, way over to the east, we should find all kinds of places to hide. You can see that the ground looks like a great mixed-up jumble of bare screes and rocks and cliffs.”

Tarbush was bending over the map and seemed less than enthusiastic. “So we go there — uphill all the way. And then we do what?”

“Wait. We send periodic signals from our suit radios until Deb or Danny calls us back. Until that happens the only danger will be if the Malacostracans triangulate on our signal and it leads them to us.” Chrissie was digging into the big supply case. “We need to take enough food and water to last for a few days. And I want something comfortable to sleep on. I’m getting sick of living inside this suit. Medicines, too, just in case. It’s going to be quite a load.” She glanced over to Tarbush, who was still frowning down at the image. “Come on, don’t make me do this all by myself.”

Tarbush slowly folded the map, rose, and walked across to where Chrissie was picking out an assortment of boxes and packages. He looked wistfully around him. Not a sign of Scruffy, and they dared not hang around to look for her. He decided to remain silent on one other point. The decision was made, and it wouldn’t help Chrissie’s peace of mind to point out to her what she had apparently not noticed. That the region of the image where they proposed to go had been marked, in Elke Siry’s precise and careful hand, Badlands.