"No one can approach the Flame!" Keeven cried. "It is death; death more terrible than by your vivisectionists."
Marva whispered: "It is taboo. It changes you into some monstrous thing!"
Allyn's straight mouth set. "Nevertheless I must go. It is told that beyond the Flame lies the knowledge of the Originals. Perhaps it will teach how to save our women from death in childbirth. It's my only hope of saving Aleena."
Thoughtfully Keeven regarded him. "It has been said around our council fires that there will be found a weapon to shatter the Nyloplast dome. Perhaps," he mused, "I will find it in time to save my kinsmen from the knives."
He smote a mighty fist into his palm: "We will go with you, Numan. For hope may lie ahead but—" his glance swept around, "only death lies here."
With a keen bladed knife he secured from one of the caves Keeven mapped in the mud the trail they must take. At night Allyn would lead, for night and day were one to Numen eyes.
They traveled close upon each other's heels, holding their leader's cloak for guidance in the darkness. By dawn they reached a small cave. There they rested, well hidden from patrolling gyros. When they woke at noon they were fresh for the next step of their journey.
Descending the rocky slope they came to the thin line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest. This time Keeven took the lead with Marva close beside. Allyn, at the rear, watched the easy grace with which the girl moved. Her slender brown feet in hide moccasins touched lightly on the path, and her body was erect and lithe.
How different she was from the unobtrusive women he knew. Raised in humility to men, kept in secluded quarters, they were trained only for the breeding day that would be the culmination of their lives. Aleena alone stood apart from other Nuwomen. Because theirs had been a sacred charge from birth they had been permitted to work together in the hydroponics labs.
"Aleena." He thought of her now, gentle, with luminous eyes fringed in long silver lashes. The sheen of her silver hair that hung waist length was dancing moonlight. Loneliness lay like hunger in him. Withdrawn from Aleena, hunted by his people, what madness lay in his desire to feed himself to a flaming radiance forbidden by all. Surely he should go back, return to his rightful destiny. Leave these unheard of companions—turn back on emotion that was bitter, hurting....