Instantly a new note rose in the cavern. The murmur of unmistakable mob fury ran over the webfoots. Several of the men approached the woman with hatred in their voices. He could not understand the words now.
But he understood her. "They'll kill me!" she cried.
Stinson pointed the disintegrating weapon at them and yelled. They dropped back. "We'll have to get outside," he told her. "This mob will soon get out of hand. Then the tube won't stop them. They will rush in. I can't kill them all at once, even if I wanted to. And I don't."
Together they edged toward the cavern entrance, ran quickly up the inclined passageway, and came out into crisp, cold air. The morning sun was reflected from a million tiny mirrors on the rocks, the trees and grass. A silver thaw during the night had covered the whole area with a coating of ice. Stinson shivered. The woman handed him a skirt she had thoughtfully brought along from the cavern. He took it, and they ran down the slippery path leading away from the entrance. From the hiding place behind a large rock they watched, as several web-footed men emerged into the sunlight. They blinked, covered their eyes, and jabbered musically among themselves. One slipped and fell on the ice. They re-entered the cave.
Stinson donned the shimmering skirt, smiling as he did so. The others should see him now. Benjamin and Straus and Jamieson. They would laugh. And Ben's wife, Lisa, she would give her little-girl laugh, and probably help him fasten the skirt. It had a string, like a tobacco pouch, which was tied around the waist. It helped keep him warm.
He turned to the woman. "I don't know what I'll do with you, but now that we're in trouble together, we may as well introduce ourselves. My name is Stinson."
"I am Sybtl," she said.
"Syb-tl." He tried to imitate her musical pronunciation. "A very nice name."
She smiled, then pointed to the cavern. "When the ice is gone, they will come out and follow us."