But the hypothesis wasn't much more than a bubble, and it burst completely when Steve remembered he was the only one who could hear the voice.
"Hey, Stedman! You trying to kill yourself?"
Steve whirled, looked up. Two figures, no more than vaguely human in their cumbersome vac-suits, hovered over him, jetting around in circles. The anthrovac had seen them too—and now, apparently alarmed by the twin forms floating just out of reach, the creature turned and bounded away over the uneven terrain.
"What gave you that idea?" Steve called into his intercom. "The anthrovac wasn't looking for trouble."
"I don't mean that, stupid." Teejay had a way of jarring him back to reality with a few words. "I mean, how much air have you left?"
Steve looked at the gauge. "Enough to return to the Gordak, provided I get on my horse."
"We'll walk with you, then," said Teejay, and dropped to the ground at his side. "I think I'll hold onto your arm, too. You're liable to go wandering again, and we might not be able to find you."
Kevin alighted, switched off his jets. "How about the voice, boy? Do you still hear it?"
"Why—no! But I did a minute ago, until the anthrovac ran away."
"That's peculiar."