Kuna's sunken, fever-yellowed eyes opened. They found the tub, in which soiled clothing still floated.
With a surge of strength that took Tex completely by surprise, the boy broke from him and ran to the water, plunging his face in and gulping like an animal.
Tex pulled him away. Kuna sagged down, sobbing. There was something wrong about his face, but Tex couldn't think what.
"Won't let me drink," he whispered. "Still won't let me drink. Got to have water." He clawed at Tex. "Water!"
Tex sent someone after it, trying to think what was strange about Kuna, scowling. There were springs of sweet water in the swamps, and even the natives couldn't drink the other. Was it simply the desire to torture that had made them deny the deserter water?
Tex caught the boy's collar. "How did you get away?"
But Kuna struggled to his knees. "Breska," he gasped. "Breska!"
The older man looked at him, wiping blood from his lips. Kuna said something in Martian, retched, choked on his own blood, and fell over. Tex knew he was dead.
"What did he say, Breska?"
The Martian's teeth showed briefly white.