d helped him train his empathetic sense and he reached out
with it. It was difficult working in the dark; he could be sure of
nothing. Was he getting a reaction--or just wishing for one? Why did
it have a ring of familiarity to it? A sudden idea struck him.

"Ulv," he said, very softly. "This is Brion." He crouched, ready
for any attack.

"I know," a voice said softly in the night. "Do not talk. Walk
in the direction you were going before."

Asking questions now would accomplish nothing. Brion turned
instantly and did as he was bidden. The buildings grew further apart
until he realized from the sand underfoot that he was back in the
planet-wide desert. It could be a trap--he hadn't recognized the
voice behind the whisper--yet he had to take this chance. A darker
shape appeared in the dark night near him, and a burning hot hand
touched his arm lightly.

"I will walk ahead. Follow close behind me." The words were louder
and this time Brion recognized the voice.

Without waiting for an answer, Ulv turned and his dimly seen shape
vanished into the darkness. Brion moved swiftly after him, until
they walked side by side over the rolling hills of sand. The sand
merged into hard-baked ground, became cracked and scarred with
rock-filled gulleys. They followed a deepening gulley that grew into
a good-sized ravine. When they turned an angle of the ravine Brion
saw a weak yellow light coming from an opening in the hard dirt
wall.

Ulv dropped on all fours and vanished through the shoulder-wide
hole. Brion followed him, trying to ignore the growing tension and
unease he felt. Crawling like this, head down, he was terribly
vulnerable. He tried to shrug off the feeling, mentally blaming it
on tense nerves.

The tunnel was short and opened into a larger chamber. A sudden
scuffle of feet sounded at the same instant that a wave of
empathetic hatred struck him. It took vital seconds to fight his way
out of the trapping tunnel, to roll clear and bring his gun up.
During those seconds he should have died. The Disan poised above him
had the short-handled stone hammer raised to strike a skull-crushing
blow.

Ulv was clutching the man's wrist, fighting silently to keep the
hammer from falling. Neither combatant said a word, the rasp of
their calloused feet on the sand the only sound. Brion backed away
from the struggling men, his gun centered on the stranger. The Disan
followed him with burning eyes, and dropped the hammer as soon