It was mid-evening now as Nixon sat in the mouth of his cave, with Nona and Loto on his upraised knee. A leader. Fair enough, Nixon thought. No one can argue with a man seventy feet tall! But Frane's growth-drug soon would change everything. The Orites would be as big as Nixon. A whole new civilization to be built in the giant size.
"I'll do my best," Nixon said earnestly. He added suddenly, "Where is Tork?"
In the tumultuous events of the past night and day—the joy of his release—there had been no time to worry about Tork.
"Where is Tork?" Nixon demanded.
Loto and Nona did not know. "Maybe the panther chewed him some," Nixon said. "I wouldn't mourn none."
Nona shook her head. "He was with my father, there where you had been lying."
"Besides, I saw him an hour after that," Loto said.
Nixon's eyes flashed. "You can be sure of one thing," he said grimly. "As soon as I get my bearings around here, we'll get to the bottom of Tork's monkey-shines."
Tork's followers, however many of them there might have been, now certainly seemed to have evaporated. Nixon knew that was natural enough. Whoever had listened to him, now would probably never admit it.
And Tork now had vanished. Perhaps he feared that he would be blamed for having so strongly urged the vivisection of the giant. "He's not at his job in the laboratory, working with your father?" Nixon suggested.