Above us tons of ice, dislodged by the Hayden blast, broke and slid down the face of the glacier upon the Olympus, rocking the ship over on its side. Baiel flung up his hands in terror, but lowered them a moment later. Behind his facial mask of stark fear, I saw a strange expression of uneasy surprise and calculation.
I moved toward him, my fists doubled.
"Even when they begin to conquer the taboos," I cried, through clenched teeth, "you still try to prevent it!"
"No, Captain; you've got it wrong. I just wanted—you—you had no right to give her the Hayden." Baiel spoke in a hoarse, nervous whisper, backing away from me slowly.
"Dayhan's my wife."
"She's still a primitive animal."
I lunged at him. He turned and ran. I would have followed, but Dayhan began to call after me frantically. I returned to help her. The ground beneath her was stained red; a jagged blade of ice had ripped a deep gash in her leg.
With my knife I cut a strip from my fur jacket and wound it as a tourniquet above the pulsing wound. My fingers were numb with cold. I worked slowly and awkwardly, but at last the bleeding ceased. Dayhan tried to stand, but she could not.
"Leave me here, my Lord," she whispered. "Brother glacier is angry; he wants my blood."