"What did you expect to prove by murdering Drein?" Briggan asked.
"I saved us from—"
"If he was an Earthman, why were the bandits firing at him? Why had they wounded him?"
"To make it look good," Tchassen replied, no longer really believing it himself. "They wanted our weapons; they have to use trickery to get them away from us."
Tchassen slid the weapon out of Drein's lifeless fingers and half-heartedly searched the street for Tynia's dispersal ray. He didn't expect to find it. The Earth people had it now. The loss of the weapon was, in one sense, more serious than the destruction of the Nevada station. A prison compound could be rebuilt and restaffed. But if the Earth ever faced the conqueror with equal firepower, Earthmen would recapture their world—and more.
We've failed; we have no right to be here—the Captain fought a burning nausea as the fear washed over his mind. What had they accomplished by the occupation? The Earth was neither enslaved nor destroyed. Hatred made the natives savages. They would never be content until they had revenge. They never conceded defeat; they never would. Corporal Drein seemed to be typical of their fanaticism, and that was why Tchassen had killed him—that, and the hysterical story Tynia had told. On calmer reflection, Tchassen knew he had no proof of Drein's disloyalty—which meant that either Briggan or Tynia could be Earth natives. That problem was unsolved; the danger was undiminished.
Tchassen wasted very little time looking for the weapon Tynia had lost. After twenty minutes, the three survivors returned to the house where Tchassen and Briggan had found food and clothing. They packed the canned goods into the sedan and put on warm coats and jackets. Although the woolens and the cottons fell to pieces when they touched the cloth, the synthetic fabrics were still relatively sound, particularly when they had been sealed in mothproof plastic.
Tchassen took over the driving when they left Reno. For greater warmth, Tynia and the Sergeant crowded into the front seat beside him. As they ascended the grade toward the pass, the air turned much colder. Tchassen's hands felt numb on the wheel and the altitude made his mind swim in a haze of vague nausea.
There was no moon and the headlights of the sedan had been smashed long ago. The Captain drove very slowly, concentrating on the curves of the highway. Three times the machine narrowly missed going over the edge; the guard rail saved them. Tchassen knew he was risking their lives to drive at night, but he had no alternative. They would not be really safe again until they reached the base on the coast, and the Earth people would try to prevent that. They would try to make sure that no survivors lived to report what had happened at the Nevada station.