One of the moths fluttered silently underSol's nose on its way to their fire. Sol made that lightning motion and caughtit in his hand, curious about it. Then he cursed and brushed it away as itstung him, and Stupid fetched it in.

      "It stung you?" Sos inquired."Let me see that hand." He drew Sol to the fire and studied thepuncture.

      There was a single red-rimmed spot in the fleshat the base of the thumb, with no other inflammation or swelling."Probably nothing, just a defensive bite," Sos said. "I'm nodoctor. But I don't like it. If I were you, I'd cut, it open and suck out anyvenom there may be, just to be sure. I never heard of a' moth with asting."

      "Injure my own right hand?" Sollaughed. "Worry over something else, advisor."

      "You won't be fighting for at least aweek-time enough for it to heal."

      "No." And that was that.

      They slept as they had before: the tentspitched side by side, the couple in one, Sos in the other. He lay tense andsleepless, not certain what it was that disturbed him so much. When he finallyslept, it was to dream of mighty wings and enormous breasts, both images deadwhite, and he didn't know which frightened him more.

      Sol did not awaken in the morning. He layin his tent, fully clothed and burning with fever. His eyes were half open butstaring, the lids fluttering sporadically. His respiration was fast andshallow, as though his chest were constricted-and it was, for the large musclesof limbs and torso were rigid.

      "The kill-spirit has taken him!"Sola cried. "The radiation."

      Sos was checking over the laboring body,impressed by the solidity and power of it even in illness. He had thought theman was coordinated rather than strong, but another reassessment was in order.Sol usually moved so smoothly that the muscle was hardly apparent. But now hewas in grave trouble, as some devastating toxin ravaged his system.