able to recognize the Shelter he'd been found in without trouble. From
that, he could work back.

That was the theory--but it wasn't happening. He circled the area, and
there was nothing to which he responded more than vaguely.

He would have to go closer.

He crossed the street. The plan of the Shelters was simple; an area
two blocks long and one block wide, heavily planted with shrubs and
small trees. In the center was an S-shaped continuous structure
divided into a number of small dwelling units.

Luis walked along one wing of the building, turned at the corner and
turned again. It was quite dark. He supposed that was why he wasn't
reacting to anything. But his senses were sharper than he realized.
There was a rustle behind him, and instinctively he flung himself
forward, flat on the ground.

A pink spot appeared, low on the wall next to him. It had been aimed
at his legs. The paint crackled faintly and the pink spot faded. He
rolled away fast.

A dark body loomed past him and dropped where he'd been. There was an
exclamation of surprise when the unknown found there was no one there.
Luis grunted with satisfaction--this might be only a stickup, but he
was getting action faster than he'd expected. He reached out and took
hold of a leg and drew the assailant to him. A hard object clipped the
side of his head, and he grasped that too.

The shape of the gun was familiar. He tore it loose. This wasn't any
stickup! Once was enough to be retrogressed, and he'd had his share.
Next time it was going to be the other guy. Physically, he was more
than a match for his attacker. He twisted his body and pinned the
struggling form to the ground.

That was what it was--a form. A woman, very much so; even in the
darkness he was conscious of her body.

Now she was trying to get loose, and he leaned his weight more
heavily on her. Her clothing was torn--he could feel her flesh against
his face. He raised the gun butt, and then changed his mind and
instead fumbled for a light. It wasn't easy to find it and still keep
her pinned.

"Be quiet or I'll clip you," he growled.

She lay still.

* * * * *

He found the light and shone it on her face. It was good to look at,
that face, but it wasn't at all familiar. He had trouble keeping his
eyes from straying. Her dress was torn, and what she wore underneath
was torn too.

"Seen enough?" she asked coldly.

"Put that way, I haven't." He couldn't