"It will burn any animal that threatens you while you wait."
"As I have seen when you go hunting. I point this small end at the beast, and then call upon the sun god for—"
"No, Dayhan. Aim well and push the small handle. It is not a god that makes the power, but the skill of man. Do not change the nozzle dial, or you will blast the whole forest into flame."
"Enough sun-fire to burn the forest! Yet you say he is no god. I am truly your mate, my Lord, when you share such power with me."
I left the forest and walked across the ice-covered meadow toward the glacier. Three miles away, nestled like a black beetle at the foot of the ice wall, lay the smashed cylinder of the Olympus, already nearly covered with ice and snow. A thin ribbon of smoke curled up from the open furnace.
Baiel met me at the door of the control room. Over his fraying officer's uniform he wore a clumsy cloak of animal skins, as I did myself. Particles of ice were frozen into his black beard, transforming it into a jutting blade of ebony. I was suddenly aware how much he had changed since our crash-landing. Always thin, he now appeared emaciated. His youth was gone. Only the blaze in his blue eyes remained the same—glittering, self-confident, determined. Denied the dress, the grooming, the daily ritual of shaving, both Baiel and I had become bearded, stoop-shouldered patriarchs, imposing hulks in our animal cloaks.
"I expected you would follow me," Baiel said.
"Why did you come?" For a moment, I felt a peculiar warmth and pity for him. "It's insubordination. I'll have to take disciplinary action when we go back."
"I'm only trying to help, Captain." The words seemed right, but the voice was mocking.
Baiel turned to the viewscreen and dialed the focus on the area of the planet south of the volcanic mountains. I saw rolling hills and rich forests, green plains watered by a network of streams; the land was a broad peninsula surrounded by the calm, blue water of an immense sea. There was no indication of human inhabitants.