had him light-headed, and his lips were cracked from thirst.
Almost continuous coughing tore at his chest with fingers of fire.
Though the sun was still low it was hot already, burning his skin dry.
Dry and hot.

It wasn't right. This thought kept nagging at his brain until he
admitted it. Turned it over and over and looked at it from all sides.
What wasn't right? The way he felt.

Pneumonia. He had all the symptoms.

His dry lips cracked and blood moistened them when he smiled. He had
avoided all the animal perils of Pyrrus, all the big carnivores and
poisonous reptiles, only to be laid low by the smallest beast of them
all. Well, he had the remedy for this one, too. Rolling up his sleeve
with shaking fingers, he pressed the mouth of the medikit to his bare
arm. It clicked and began to drone an angry whine. That meant something,
he knew, but he just couldn't remember what. Holding it up he saw that
one of the hypodermics was projecting halfway from its socket. Of
course. It was empty of whatever antibiotic the analyzer had called for.
It needed refilling.

Jason hurled the thing away with a curse, and it splashed into a pool
and was gone. End of medicine, end of medikit, end of Jason dinAlt.
Single-handed battler against the perils of deathworld. Strong-hearted
stranger who could do as well as the natives. It had taken him all of
one day on his own to get his death warrant signed.

* * * * *

A choking growl echoed behind him. He turned, dropped and fired in the
same motion. It was all over before his conscious mind was aware it had
happened. Pyrran training had conditioned his reflexes on the
pre-cortical level. Jason gaped at the ugly beast dying not a meter from
him and realized he had been trained well.

His first reaction was unhappiness that he had killed one of the grubber
dogs. When he looked closer he realized this animal was slightly
different in markings, size and temper. Though most of its forequarters
were blown away, blood pumping out in dying spurts, it kept trying to
reach Jason. Before the eyes glazed with death it had struggled its way
almost to his feet.

It wasn't quite a grubber dog, though chances were it was a wild
relative. Bearing the same relation as dog to wolf. He wondered if there
were any other resemblances between wolves and this dead beast. Did they
hunt in packs, too?

As soon as the thought hit him he looked up--not a moment too soon. The
gre