Just then the one streamlined swamp-buggy Jansen had seen came chugging up through the brackish water. A hatch opened and as it did so Wendy moved quickly away from Jansen. She waded toward the buggy, smiling. A man appeared in the hatch, a big man, big as Jansen and wider. He was younger than Jansen thought he would be. He was handsome and somehow cold-looking.
"Wendy, my dear," Jansen heard him say. "This is a pleasant surprise."
Wendy reached the swamp-buggy. Bareen—for it was Bareen—leaned over and offered her a hand. He drew her up to him and she turned her cheek for his kiss. Then they disappeared inside the buggy and it chugged away.
Jansen sat there for a moment. Bareen, he thought. Bareen and Wendy Hilliard. Well, why not? Hadn't Ted been killed?
But why did she come to me?
Jansen stood up. His limbs trembled with heat-fatigue and he popped two salt tablets into his mouth. He began to walk.
"Hey, you!" a supervisor called. "Lunch hour's almost over. Where you going?"
Jansen didn't answer. The swamp-buggy, moving slowly through the brown water, was almost out of sight. A dome corridor led from the chlorella bogs to the irrigation station, Jansen knew. The buggy was headed in that direction.
"I said, where you going?"
Jansen didn't answer the shouted question. There wasn't time. He ran, splashing through the thigh-deep water, moving clumsily and slowly. Instead of following Bareen's buggy, he headed for where the other vehicles were parked. He climbed on one and began to unbolt the hatch when he heard boots on metal behind him.