And as our relationship progressed from a casual one to a definitely friendly one, Joe seemed more enthusiastic than ever to keep up our grinding pace to find what we were looking for.
Once we stopped in a clearing to rest. Joe lounged on the matted greenery, his long body stretched out in front of him, the knife gleaming in his belt. I'd seen him slash his way through thick, tangled vines with that knife, his long, muscular arms powerfully slicing through them like strips of silk.
"How far are we from the Station?" I asked.
"Three or four Earth weeks," he replied.
I sighed wearily. "Where do we go from here?"
"There are more villages," he said.
"We'll never find him."
"Possibly," Joe mused, the smile creeping over his face again.
"A wild goose chase. A fool's errand."
"We'd better get started," Joe said simply.