It was night outside. They walked slowly, consoling the women, who were sobbing again at the loss of the shrill god they had known for so long. The heat that radiated from the sand was suffocating.
"We have to hurry on," Sten told the women. "We can't be caught in this sand tomorrow. There are foothills ahead where we can rest."
It was morning when the men, carrying the women, entered a rocky canyon and wearily slumped down in the shade of a cliff. The women barely moved, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted.
"Lord, I'm tired," Karl groaned.
Sten laughed. "At least we accomplished our mission. Except ... for Franz."
The men sat silent.
"Maybe Franz fulfilled his purpose, too," Karl said. "That dynamo was the woman he had waiting for him. He probably got a lot of satisfaction out of knowing that for one minute, at least, Panamia was without The Leader."
The other men didn't answer. They were asleep.
They woke as the sun was going down. Sten climbed the cliffs to look out over the desert in search of the other party. He returned dejected.
"They're half a day overdue now," he said. "Our food's low so we'll have to go on and hope they catch up later. Bradley has another map."