ial waters were still
falling, falling. It rained almost all the time and the air was thick
with moisture and every night when the sun--as yet unseen by the dawn
earth except as an invisible source of light--went down and darkness
came, the mists rolled in from the sea. In the morning whether rains
had fallen or not the ground was soaked and tiny freshets rushed down
to the sea, returning to it.

"Look out!" he cried suddenly, and shoved her against the base of the
cliff which overlooked the water. The cliff top thrust out over them,
umbrella-wise. The base of the cliff was thus a concavity and they
pressed themselves against it now, in shadow. The waters of the infant
sea were a hundred yards away, surging and booming against the rock.

She heard it soon after he did. A helicopter. She wanted to scream.
She wondered if they would hear her scream. But she looked at Adam
Slade's face and did nothing. Soon the helicopter came, buzzing low
over them, searching. It circled a great many times because the
abandoned tank was there. It circled and came down on the beach and
two uniformed figures got out. Now she really wanted to scream. One
sound. One sound and they would hear her. One quick filling of the
lungs and--

Adam Slade hit her suddenly and savagely and the black loomed up at
her but she did not remember striking it.

When she awoke, the helicopter was gone.

"Sorry I had to poke you one," Slade said. He did not seem sorry at
all. He said it automatically and then added: "You ready to walk?"

She nodded. She got up and staggered a few steps before her legs
steadied under her. Then with Slade she walked down along the rocky
beach. This, she thought, was a story. It was the only big story she
had ever had and probably she would not live to write it. As a woman,
she was almost hysterical with fear, but as a videocaster she was
angry. The story was hers--if she lived to tell it.

Then she had to live.

Time prison. Sure, she thought. Utterly escape proof--unless someone
like Slade could take a hostage, double back to the prison dome, the
hermetically sealed dome and somehow trick or overpower the guards who
watched the time traveling machine outside the prison dome.

Outside. Naturally, it would be outside. That way the prisoners
couldn't get at it.

Unless, like Slade, they too were outside.

Outside, where life had not yet been born. Outside, the infant earth.
Let a man escape. What did his escape matter?