ad. After minutes of
deliberation he figured out that the medikit was what he needed. The
easy-off snap was very difficult and the button release didn't work. He
finally twisted his arm around until it was under the orifice and
pressed the entire unit down. It buzzed industriously, though he
couldn't feel the needles, he guessed it had worked. His sight spun
dizzily for a while then cleared. Pain-killers went to work and he
slowly came out of the dark cloud that had enveloped his brain since the
crash.

Reason returned and loneliness rode along with it. He was without food,
friendless, surrounded by the hostile forces of an alien planet. There
was a rising panic that started deep inside of him, that took
concentrated effort to hold down.

"Think, Jason, don't emote," he said it aloud to reassure himself, but
was instantly sorry, because his voice sounded weak in the emptiness,
with a ragged edge of hysteria to it. Something caught in his throat and
he coughed to clear it, spitting out blood. Looking at the red stain he
was suddenly angry. Hating this deadly planet and the incredible
stupidity of the people who lived on it. Cursing out loud was better and
his voice didn't sound as weak now. He ended up shouting and shaking his
fist at nothing in particular, but it helped. The anger washed away the
fear and brought him back to reality.

Sitting on the ground felt good now. The sun was warm and when he leaned
back he could almost forget the unending burden of doubled gravity.
Anger had carried away fear, rest erased fatigue. From somewhere in the
back of his mind there popped up the old platitude. _Where there's life,
there's hope._ He grimaced at the triteness of the words, at the same
time realizing that a basic truth lurked there.

Count his assets. Well battered, but still alive. None of the bruises
seemed very important, and no bones were broken. His gun was still
working, it dipped in and out of the power holster as he thought about
it. Pyrrans made rugged equipment. The medikit was operating as well. If
he kept his senses, managed to walk in a fairly straight line and could
live off the land, there was a fair chance he might make it back to the
city. What kind of a reception would be waiting for him there was a
different matter altogether. He would find that out after he arrived.
Getting there had first priority.

On the debit side there stood the planet Pyrrus. Strength-sapping
gravity, murderous weather, and