"Then—why are we waiting?"
Wordless again, they left the rise; and now there was new, silent tension in them—tension born of looming dangers yet to come ... of the very world-shaking import of their task.
Yet other factors, even more, churned Boone to turmoil.
Could he believe the man called Lor—the incredible tale he'd told, the things he'd said?
Or, even assuming belief, could he yet trust the other? What proof did he have of the real effects of the mutation, or of the Helgae's motives? True, they'd not harmed either him or Eileen. But might not that be a mere trick to lull suspicion? Perhaps Lor himself did not even know the facts. It could be that he was only a pawn—a being created as part of some dark plan to bring the whole human race down in disaster.
As for Eileen—Boone frowned and pondered. She was changed, somehow, from the girl he'd known. It was as if her basic drive, her fierce ambition, all at once had vanished. Now she was woman. Woman only.
Questions, questions. Seething, they loomed ever-larger, till at last they were more than his aching brain could cope with. Of a sudden it came to him that sometime, somewhere, there must be an end to thinking, indecision.
For him, that moment had already come. From here on, if he were not to find himself forever immobilized by doubt, there could be no choice for him but action.
So, he would act.