"Dantan. Samuel Dantan. Earthly language is as harsh as the Klanvahr I learned from Sanfel. Yet my name may seem strange to you. I am Quiana."
He said hoarsely, "What do you want? What did you want with Sanfel?"
"Help," Quiana said. "A weapon. Sanfel had promised me a weapon. He was working very hard to make one, risking much ... and now time has eaten him up—that strange, capricious time that varies so much between your world and mine. To me it was only yesterday—and I still need the weapon."
Dantan's laugh was harsh with jealousy of that unknown and long-dead Martian.
"Then I'm the wrong man," he said roughly. "I've no weapon. I've men tracking me down to kill me, now."
She leaned forward a little, gesturing.
"Can you escape? You are hidden here, you know."
"They'll find the same way I found, up above."
"The laboratory door can be locked, at the top of the shaft."
"I know. I locked it. But there's no food or water here.... No, if I had any weapons I wouldn't be here now."