the killer even though I was unconscious?"

"Especially heard. Possible. With your increased power, and ours,
impressions received through sense-channels but not recognized at the
time or remembered later might be recovered." He shook his head. "Don't
bother me."

"I just wanted to know," said Hyrst. He thought of his son, and the two
daughters he hoped he would never see. He thought of Elena. It was too
late to do anything for her, but the others were still living. So was
he, and he intended to stay that way, at least until he had done what he
set out to do.

"Old Bellaver was behind that killing, wasn't he? Old Quentin, this
one's grandfather."

"Yes. Don't bother me."

"One thing more. Do we Lazarites live longer than men?"

Shearing gave him a curious, brief look. "Yes."

The tug was out of sight behind a massive rearing shape that seemed to
clutch a broken ship between its paws. Symbolic, perhaps, of space? Who
knew? Hyrst led Shearing in wild impala-like leaps across an open space,
and into a narrow way that twisted, filled with darkness, among the
bases of a group that resembled an outlandish procession following a
king.

"How much longer?"

"Humane Penalty first came in a hundred and fourteen years ago, right?
After Seitz' method was perfected for saving spacemen. I was one of the
first they used it on."

"My God," said Hyrst. Yet, somehow, he was not as surprised as he might
have been.

"I've aged," said Shearing apologetically. "I was only twenty-seven
then."

They crouched, beside a humped shape like a gigantic lizard with a long
tail. The tug swung overhead and slowly on.

Hyrst said, "Then it's possible the one who killed MacDonald is still
alive?"

"Possible. Probable."

Hyrst bared his teeth, in what was not at all like a smile. "Good," he
said. "That makes me happy."

They did not do any talking after that. They had had their helmet radios
operating on practically no power at all, so that they couldn't be
picked up outside a radius of a few yards, but even that might be too
close, now that Bellaver's men had had time to get suited and fan out.
They shut them off entirely, communicating by yanks and nudges.

* * * * *

For what seemed to Hyrst like a very long time, but which was probably
less than half an hour in measured minutes, they dodged from one patch
of shadow to another, following an erratic course that Hyrst thought
would lead them away