"You can answer that better than I, my son."
Tak Laleen stood up, wringing her hands. "You will face the force-field and our guns—but you wonder if you need weapons." With an effort she checked the hysterical laughter bubbling in her throat. "My people would say you had gone mad; but who knows the meaning of madness?"
Pendillo took the missionary's hand firmly in his. "She's tired, Lanny. Our ways are still new to her."
"And we've had her cooped up in the house too long," Endhart added.
Pendillo glanced sharply at his friend. Endhart nodded. "It is time," he said cryptically.
Pendillo turned toward his son. "A walk outside would do her good, Lanny."
"Is it safe?"
"She won't try to escape; you and I will go with her."
Pendillo led her toward the door. Her face glowed with hope. She glanced eagerly down the long street, lit by the evening fires. Lanny was sure she was looking for the nearest Chapel of the Triangle, calculating her chances of escape. She was the enemy. What reason did his father or Endhart have to trust her so blindly?
At the door Pendillo turned for a moment toward Endhart. "You'll make sure Gill knows?"