Father Abrams nervously followed Avery through the thickening alien greenery, away from the Leone estate. Dodging the low-branching, treelike ferns and thorny floor growth, the two remained alert for patrols and animal life. The deepening shadows and subtle changes in the woodland chorus whispered of the oncoming twilight. Chilled and basted with forest dew, Father Abrams began to feel the leaden toll of the trek.

Finally he puffed, "A moment! Let me catch my breath." He stopped, hands on knees, breathing hard. "I don't think we are being followed."

Avery turned, re-shouldering his pack. He checked his watch and listened intently for a moment to the constant background chatter of the forest. They were, by Leone's guess, about two miles north of the estate by now. "I think you're right. I have not seen any signs of patrols. I think Gregory's troops may be staying to the roads and estates. Soon, it will be too dark to travel safely. There is a small knoll ahead, with some rocky cover at the end of it. We can stay the night there. Catch your breath, and here," said Avery, passing a plastic canteen he unhooked from his pack, "drink. It is damp, I know, but still you can dehydrate here quickly."

Father Abrams took the canteen gratefully, and squatting against the fat base of a fern, drank deeply. "How much further to this knoll, did you say?"

Avery shrugged. "I make it to be about a half hour's travel, about half a mile."

Reflecting on this, the Missionary asked, "And the hunting camp?"

"We will not make that until well past noon tomorrow. It is a full fourteen hour walk from the estate. We did not start until late afternoon. We will be fine at the knoll for one night, I am sure."

Father Abrams passed back the canteen and stood shaking the forest debris from his cassock. The priest pulled the hunting bag over his shoulder and picked up the carbine. "I never hunted as a boy, Avery; I doubt I will be much help with this rifle. I was told by the mission board that I would be alright as long as I stayed close by the estates. Are we in much danger from wildlife here?"

"Some. We smell wrong, not like Avon's native animal life, so we won't attract Sprangs. Those are the main predators here. You were told about them?"

Father Abrams shook his head. "No, I was not briefed on the local animals before I came, just told to stay near the estates, which I have. I am afraid I haven't wandered far enough from the settled areas to see any, and my focus has been perhaps too narrow-minded. I know there are predators here, and I have seen smaller animals, flying things, insects and such, but if the larger predators were ever discussed, I probably just didn't make note. In my own defense, I use my lighter to move between the estates, so except for some rather long walks through cultivated fields, I actually haven't seen much of Vega, Ah, Avon."

Avery took a long look at Father Abrams. "The larger animals do not normally approach the estates these days. If you have not traveled into the bush, it is understandable, I suppose. You are not, pardon my frankness, as I would imagine a missionary would be. I envision some gaunt, fire-eyed survivor, savvy with the ways of nature, yet ready to sacrifice his very life for the cause."

Father Abrams colored with embarrassment. "That is how I saw myself once, as a young priest. Unfortunately, I showed an early facility with library science, and my Monsignor felt I would serve the church well in that venue. I, I spent five years in the stacks, and," he said, patting his ample waist, "at table. I watched myself age, grow fat. I felt I had abandoned my calling. This, it was the last chance for me, you see. I wanted to live the life I had always envisioned. Afraid I made a pest of myself, until the Monsignor relented. So," Abrams looked defiantly at Avery, "here I am. And, I am willing to sacrifice myself for the good of my parishioners, if it comes to that, my son."

Avery's face in turn colored, and lowering his gaze, he said, "I meant nothing by my remarks, Father, it was unkind. Sprangs are a kind of reptile. About two meters long, about this high." Avery indicated with his freehand a height of about two and a half feet. "They are attracted to movement and have good depth perception, so they will attack if close enough. They are territorial, and prowl their ranges at night.That is the danger - if they come across us while prowling, they will attack to defend their territories; but they will not hunt us. I have some traps in the field bags for them. They, the beasts, are called Sprangs because they crouch, then leap to attack. It makes them easy to trap. I will set these when we camp. You will see."

Night was just settling in as they reached the slightly less forested rise and crossed over to just below a tumble of eight foot basalt boulders at the knoll's far edge.

"The rocks will help keep the wind off, and we have some clear space from the hill to keep watch. I have stayed here before," Avery said.

Digging into the packs, Avery produced two collapsed, flexible poles and a thin but large thermal tarp fitted with folds sewn in halfway along the sheets length at the outer edges. Avery threaded the poles through the folds, and then pushed the pole ends, now protruding from the tarps' middles, deep into the loam. Then he bowed the free ends of the poles over and secured the cords. This formed a sort of floored tube with the two bowed poles supporting the roof half of the tarp.

He then pulled a can of compressed foam out of the sack, along with a ball of crumpled plastic. He applied the nozzle to a fitting on the crumpled ball and a hissing ensued. The ball filled and flattened out, forming a half-width expanded foam mattress about three inches thick. He repeated this process with supplies from the other bag and erected a second lean-to for Father Abrams.

"The sheeting material reflects your body heat back to you," Avery explained. "It is impregnated with an insect repellent as well, so we will be warm, dry and bug-free tonight."

Avery pulled a hand ax from the bag, along with several other metallic sections and some other things Father Abrams couldn't identify, and bustled about the periphery of the campsite. While the priest looked on, Avery screwed together several metallic cylinders ending with a pointed section,then affixed the assembled spear to a flat plate he had hammered deep into the dirt. The plate had two long stakes in the bottom, holding it firmly in the soil. A wire ran out from the base plate ending in a small sensor, which Avery placed about five feet in front of the assembly.

Noting the priest's interest, Avery explained. "This is a Sprang trap. The sensor makes a faint noise that attracts the Sprang's interest. When it is within two feet of it, the sensor releases a catch, and the pole flies up from the ground to a 45 degree angle, waving around a bit. Sprangs attack the moving pole. They crouch and jump, impaling themselves on it. They cannot help it; their attack is, ah, a genetic response? The sound cannot be heard more than ten feet away, so the trap won't call them, but it will skewer them if they are close."

With the rock jetty behind them, and the traps set in front, the two men sat and ate a ration from their packs, then settled down to sleep in the inky dark of the unlit camp.

Both men awoke to an earsplitting scream. Father Abrams threw himself out the open end of his shelter and stood shaking in the dark for a second, head darting right and left as he collected his wits. Then he made a grab for the carbine next to his bag and stumbled around the lean-to, peering into the night. He could just make out some violent movement beyond the camp and headed towards it. As he approached, the movement resolved into what appeared to be an eight-foot-long dragon, flailing out its life on the business end of one of Avery's spear traps.

A thrashing bright red tail and huge fanged maw filled his view. The jaws worked open and closed, and the Sprang flexed its claws, rolling over the collapsed trap, raking the dirt as it died.

The priest stood, working his own mouth in a sort of shocked sympathy, when another threshing noise sounded, and a second beast jumped out of the dark, landing on the first. The new intruder screamed and bit deeply into the carcass of the first Sprang. Then it lifted its huge gore-dripping head to stare at the priest. Father Abrams fumbled up his carbine, and pressed the trigger several times, waving the hunting rifle at the Sprang, who hissed, then crouched to spring. Suddenly, a report rang out from behind the priest. The lizard's head snapped sideways, and it fell, convulsing on top of the first.

Shuddering, Father Abrams turned away to see Avery standing behind him, lowering his carbine. Avery approached the priest and gently took the rifle from his shaking hands.

"You must disable the safety catch to fire it - like this, do you see?" Avery released and reset the safety catch several times in demonstration.

The speechless priest nodded nervelessly. Regaining his voice with a swallow, Father Abrams inquired, "Are you a religious man, my son?"

Avery thought about this as he surveyed the small mountain of dead flesh now piled on top of his spear trap.

"I have not had the opportunity to practice a religion. The church, as you know, is not established on Avon. Still, I have always believed there is something beyond this life. Often, on the wall of the estate, in the quiet of an evening, I have thought on this."

"I asked," gulped Father Abrams, "because I would like to be put to my rest by believing hands when I die. The event seems closer than I would have guessed just yesterday."

"It was a brave thing you tried to do, Father. Not many could have faced a beast of that size as you did. Most would have run away. Perhaps you are that missionary I envisioned, after all."

Abrams beamed. "I did, didn't I?"

Avery looked up at the sky, sighed and said, "It will be light soon. We will have to break camp now. We can't stay here with this," he noted, waving at the dead Sprangs, "and the gunfire could attract other attention." He handed the carbine back to the priest, looking regretfully at the site of the buried trap.

Both busied themselves with the details of breaking camp. Finally shouldering their packs, they started north once more. Just before they cleared the open knoll,three men broke free of the surrounding cover, trotting through the dim light towards the high ground of the hilltop. Avery started to crouch, but as the three approached they began to wave, and Avery straightened, saying, "I know these men, wait."

The thinnest of the three men bounded up the hill eagerly, a tight grin spreading beneath sandy-brown hair. Following him a younger but more heavily built lad, and lastly, a rather stocky and much shorter older man worked his way up at a sedate pace. Reaching the top, the thin grinner called out and embraced Avery, who introduced him as Daniel La Platte, his brother-in-law and partner in the Leone/La Platte estate. As the two talked, they were joined by the trailing pair, the short stocky Herr Franklin Muller and his son, Bart.

"Gott Damn, but is gutt to see you free," said Herr Mueller, changing over his couched shotgun to shake Avery's hand. "Dat pig St. Croix, he sends vifteen uff his tuggs to mine estate gates, vere dey vas some sort uff mizzle launcher up-putting. Dey tries to get in, too, but my son tolt dem to go away, und shut da gates on dem. Zo dey bring up zer truck und push in the gate. Your Daniel, my son and I, armed ourzelfs, unt 'trough the back gate ve go. I did not vote to half his black boots all over my crops, by Damn!"

Avery introduced Father Abrams to the three newcomers.

"Ya so, you are the missionary I vas told came by ven I vass at the meeting, nein? Zorry I vas not dere. I build for you a kirche, Ach! A church ven back to my estate I get, by Gott!"

Father Avery blushed and shook the voluble German's hand. None of the original colonists were native to Avon, of course, and though almost everyone spoke basic commercial English, it was not unusual to find it spoken as a second language. Third generation residents were already beginning to generate a local patios, though as yet, its traces were faint.

"We heard a shot,"said Daniel, "so we decided to chance it and see who it was. I knew you would pass through here if you got out." Daniel's face took on a pained expression. "Lucille, my son, are they alright? What was the shot for?"

Avery looked away. "They were on the porch when Gregory's men broke in. We had to run, and they had already been seen. There was nothing to be done. We think they are all right, but..." Avery shrugged, and pointed at the still visible carcasses piled at the knoll's edge. "We had some Sprang trouble, that's all. We have not seen any of Gregory's men."

Herr Muller's face darkened. "Don't worry. Ve get zem back soon. Ve had more luck. I gott twenty men off ze back fields on our vay out, not armed yet, but you and your fader vere not the only vuns who built hunting retreat. Alzo, I half more zan hunting rifles put away there. Ve should get started, nein?"

Daniel put his hand on Avery's shoulder. "I will stay with my brother-in-law. You should get back with the others." To Avery he said, "You are making for the hunting dome, right?"

"For the transmitter." Avery nodded. "We need to contact Father Abram's superiors. Any of my people who made it out will head there."

Herr Muller nodded. "You see iff you can find your men, den. You bring effryone up to mine lodge, after, ya? Den ve go chase doze swine off!"

Avery agreed, and the three set off north while Herr Muller and son went back to rejoin the other escaped workers. The day wore on without further incident. Daniel took advantage of their infrequent rest stops to tutor Father Abrams in arms' handling and some dry fire exercises, but no rounds were wasted for fear of attracting unwanted attention. They kept on watch for other stragglers or patrols, but saw no one. It was well past dusk by the time the cadre had pushed their way close to the Leone hunting grounds. Approaching the last break in the wood fronting the small hunters' retreat, they saw the twelve foot insulated kit dome, with two small transparent panels set near the top in lieu of windows.

Avery motioned for quiet and whispered, "Wait here. I will go forward and watch for a time. If it is alright, I will call you in. If not, I will come back and join you. If you hear any excitement, do not come in. Go find Mueller and tell him what has happened."

Avery backed away and set off to circle to the opposite side of the cabin clearing. Father Abrams and Daniel crouched and waited. After twenty minutes, Avery reappeared quietly behind them looking anxious and uncertain.

"There is someone at the back, in the brush behind the cabin. I could not safely see who it was. The cabin seems undisturbed, from what I could tell. We will have to chance an encounter with the lurker. You and I should work our way around opposite sides, on his flanks. Father Abrams, I would ask you to do a brave thing. Give us ten minutes, then walk into the clearing and around the cabin openly. We will see what this visitor does. Could you do this?"

Father Abrams turned white, but nodded. "I put myself in God's hands," he said, "and yours. We all must do what needs doing. Go on."

Avery and Daniel melted back into the brush, and Father Abrams crossed himself, unshouldered his carbine and stashed it in the forest litter. After a few minutes, he took a deep breath, rose, and walked stiffly into the clearing midway to the cabin and paced around to the rear.

There was some rustling in the brush, and a young man stumbled out into the shadowed clearing. Father Abrams stiffened even more and stopped, half raising his hands. Just then, from the right and left of the figure, both Avery and Daniel stepped into the clearing, each with rifle at the ready.

"Wait! Stop! It's me, Bob Traneil, the Cooper. Lucille sent me! I was waiting here for someone to show up! Don't shoot!"

Avery pulled up his carbine and signaled the others. "How long have you been here?"

"Only a couple of hours or so. The cabin is locked, I didn't want to break in. Lucille said to run and try to join you if I could. I tried to find others to come, but there were too many men around the estate. They drove a big long truck into the grapes, and started to set up some kind of building there. I came here to find you then. None of the others got out before the soldiers came and sealed the gates. I walked all day and part of the night to get here."

The young man wrapped his arm about his thin torso and shivered. "They are all over the roads and around the estates everywhere I saw."

Avery said nothing, and turned toward the cabin.

Daniel said, "Let's get inside and see what we can do about all this."

The cabin was quickly warmed against the chill evening, and Daniel and Avery began pulling things from sealed containers and assembling a small radio transceiver on the cabin's only table. Father Abrams found a thick dry blanket and wrapped it around the young Cooper, who was wet to the skin from his unprepared trek and from crouching in the thick vegetation.

Avery finished connecting a coaxial cable the transmitter and threw the loose coils at Daniel, who ran the cable outside and began connecting up to the portable dish that he had affixed to the cabin.

Looking to the priest, Avery said "We will have to be quick. Too many know about these cabins. Gregory never stayed on Avon long enough to be aware of how we live here, but soon he will start asking questions about missing people, and someone will tell him. For now they are satisfied to erect their installations and control the roads. He knows we have no professional military. This is just a simple field radio, not a particle transceiver, so you must hope they have not found, or at least not disabled, your ship yet."

Father Abrams looked blankly at Avery. "What do you mean?"

Avery continued, "Your Lighter. You must patch through from here to your ship's packet radio, and have it put you through. Warn them about the new weapon, tell them of the switch, and Sienna's note. Ask what they suggest we do. We should only stay long enough to get a reply, no more than an hour or so. The packet transmitter signal can't be traced, but this one can. We can't chance leaving it on for long. Compose what you will say and ready your access codes. After you transmit, I will try to contact Herr Muller's lodge, then we wait a short time. If nothing comes back within an hour," Avery shrugged, "we turn it off and go."

Daniel returned, and both men began stripping the cabin of anything useful. A spare hunting jacket, two sidearms, more ammunition for the rifles, some field rations, a pair of binoculars, a hiker's backpack; all was divided up and distributed between them.

Father Abrams indicated he was ready, so Avery switched on the transmitter and turned it over to the priest. Their luck held, and the transmission went through. Avery dialed in the Muller's lodge frequency and told them they would be moving out within the hour. Then they set the radio to receive, and waited.