"And I always suspected you were an idiot," he laughed. He suspected, no, he had to admit to himself, that he was nearer the idiot. Apparently you do not train a girl the same way you train an animal; that should be obvious, yet he had given her no more responsibility and less incentive than he would have given a dog. "From now on, strategy will be my middle name."
He stretched and grinned as though something wonderful had been accomplished.
But with morning, rocket deceleration thundered overhead.
He sent her running into the hills until he could see who the rocket contained. It was not the Doric, and he was relieved, for suddenly they seemed a villainous, lecherous bunch. He could never have sent her to Earth with them.
Slipping his automatic into his waistband, he hobbled, with his double shadows lurching before him, toward the lowering cloud of dust that obscured the rocket at the watering place.
When the people flowed out, he saw it was the Mormons and was not pleased, although it would be safe enough to turn the girl over to their women, he supposed. If they intended to stay, they could try the other side of the planet, he'd tell them that. This land was staked.
When they reached him, the one who was a doctor pounced on his ankle the way the nameless girl would pounce on a mouse.
When he enquired for the Doric, they shook their heads. Their farming supplies had never arrived, but it made no difference now. They were being forced out of the system, which was not the first time they had been pushed around, their bearded leader said.
"You are lucky we paused here to fill the water tanks for the long trip in. We are the last ship. Unless they have been lying to us about the New System, I doubt if ships will bother with these planets for generations. You see, they found heavy metals there and the Government has decreed all colonization must be in that system to support development of mining colonies. They would not have forced us from Smith in a military sense, but we are not yet prepared for isolation; we must trade for many things. Six light years is a long way to be cut off. How lucky you are. You would have been the last man in this solar system. I shiver at the thought."
"Oh?" said Paul calmly enough. "I have vegetables in the ground, your people are welcome to them."