outlaw by the conventions of his own era, Ross Murdock who
considered himself an exceedingly tough individual, that toughness
steeled by the training for Time Agent sorties, had come up against a
power he did not understand, instinctively hated and feared.

Now he breathed deeply of the wind--the smell of the sea, the scents of
the land growths, strange but pleasant. So easy to relax, to drop into
the soft, lulling swing of this world in which they had found no fault,
no danger, no irritant. Yet, once those others had been here--the
blue-suited, hairless ones he called "Baldies." And what had happened
then ... or afterward?

A black head, brown shoulders, slender body, broke the sleepy slip of
the waves. A shimmering mask covered the face, catching glitter-fire in
the sun. Two hands freed a chin curved yet firmly set, a mouth made more
for laughter than sternness, wide dark eyes. Karara Trehern of the Alii,
the one-time Hawaiian god-chieftain line, was an exceedingly pretty
girl.

But Ross regarded her aloofly, with a coldness which bordered on
hostility, as she flipped her mask into its pocket on top of the
gill-pack. Below his rocky perch she came to a halt, her feet slightly
apart in the sand, an impish twist to her lips as she called mockingly:

"Why not come in? The water's fine."

"Perfect, like all the rest of this." Some of his impatience came out in
the sour tone. "No luck, as usual?"

"As usual," Karara conceded. "If there ever was a civilization here,
it's been gone so long we'll probably never find any traces. Why don't
you just pick out a good place to set up that time-probe and try it
blind?"

Ross scowled. "Because"--his patience was exaggerated to the point of
insult--"we have only one peep-probe. Once it's set we can't tear it
down easily for transport somewhere else, so we want to be sure there's
something to look at beyond."

She began to wring the water out of her long hair. "Well, as far as
we've explored ... nothing. Come yourself next time. Tino-rau and Taua
aren't particular; they like company."

Putting two fingers to her mouth, Karara whistled. Twin heads popped out
of the water, facing the shore and her. Projecting noses, mouths with
upturned corners so they curved in a lasting pleasant grin at the
mammals on the shore--the dolphin pair, mammals whose ancestors had
chosen the sea, whistled back in such close counterfeit of the girl's
signal that they could be an echo of her call. Ye