"At the proper time; leave it to me."
"Knows what?" Lanny demanded.
"That we may be a little late for dinner," his father answered blandly. He nodded toward Tak Laleen and Lanny understood.
Lanny walked on one side of Tak Laleen and slid his arm firmly under hers. She kept running her fingers nervously over his arm. She tripped once, when her foot caught in a shallow hole; her nails tore a deep gash in Lanny's flesh as he reached out to keep her from falling. He healed the wound at once, except for a small area where the germ colony needed exposure to the life-energy of the sun. She looked at his arm. Her lips were trembling; her face was white.
"So you can do it, Lanny."
For a moment he had forgotten her remarkable inability. "You mean the healing? All men do that; we always have. A rational mind controls the structure and energy of organized matter."
"I've listened to Dr. Endhart teaching that to the small children," she replied. "It—it is difficult to believe." She began to laugh again; waves of hysteria swept her body. "I'm sorry, Lanny. I've thought, sometimes, that I'm losing my mind. We're never really certain of ourselves, are we? Two plus two doesn't have to make four, I suppose; it's just more convenient when it does."
"I could show you how to heal yourself, Tak Laleen."
"Ever since I came here I've been learning, Lanny. But it does no good unless I'm willing to learn first. My mind is tied down by everything I already know. I can put my two and two together as often as I like, and I still come up with four. Any other answer is insanity."
Twice, as they walked through the streets, Pendillo took a turn which led toward one of the enemy chapels. Lanny swiftly guided the missionary in another direction. The third time they came upon the Chapel of the Triangle suddenly, and before he could pull Tak Laleen back she broke free and fled toward the glowing Triangle, crying for help in her native tongue.