The spacer stared at Trent as the man slid limply down the wall to a sitting position. He flexed his numbed fingers thoughtfully, as Trent peered glassily up at him without seeming to know where he was.
Karen slipped behind a rank of thick-shouldered Skirkhi as a hum of comment began to rise from the gathering. Guthrie turned and pushed his way through to the street. Out of habit, he took the direction to his quarters, vaguely aware that Polf had reappeared to follow him.
Disgusted with himself, he tried to see Karen's side of it.
It must have looked just wonderful! he told himself. I think I might have really tried it—guess she saw that in my face, so I can't blame her for ducking. How could I? This place is getting me. Pretty soon, I'll be a first-class Skirkh!
He kicked moodily at the dust outside his doorway, then climbed the projecting stones at the corner. Polf grunted and followed him up to the roof.
"He is too good," said the Skirkh. "It will be easy. I will do it for you with Retho. My brother, Kror, will come too."
"Do what?" asked Guthrie.
"Steal his woman for you tonight. It will be a bad thing to do and the best time to do it. Elders say no moon tonight."
"But what makes you think—?"