Behind him, MacMartree heard the racking sobs begin in Cole. He did not recognize them as sobs, but he sensed their meaning, and knew, of course, what caused them.
He also heard Phillips scramble to his feet, his wind sucking in and out of his throat in short, gasping shudders. He waited for Phillips to break and run into the darkness, fleeing in blind panic for the distant sanctuary of the ship on the plain below. But the darkness that surrounded them stared Phillips down, sent him grovelling back to the earth, a whipped and whimpering cur.
And then, MacMartree was alone. He had never felt so lonely in his life before. The three younger men were there, of course, but they, too, were lost in voids of aloneness. He envied the unconscious Abner, until he felt Abner stir slightly on the ground behind him, and then go tense with waking. So they were all to meet it, and be aware when it came.
But, such loneliness! Such a need he felt, for something to hold to, to reach for, to depend on. Another of their weapons? He knew better.
There had to be something, there had to be. But what? Beaten, vanquished, he covered his face with his hands, and waited.
The little planet rolled steadily toward the sunrise, the cold stars glided above them. Quietly, the dawn breeze simpered among the grasses.
Quite slowly, MacMartree raised his head.
"Abner, Phillips, Cole...." They didn't answer, but he knew they heard him, and were listening, within their individual worlds of aching loneliness and fear.
"I ... I know what our Enemy is," MacMartree said.
They came a little closer to him then, venturing out of themselves a fraction to hear what he said.