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Rianav swung the sled about. “I’d like a headcount on this pass, Portegin, Titrivell.” She nosed the sled down and slowed its forward speed.

“I make about forty-nine,” Portegin said, “but the children keep moving about.”

“I count fifty. No, fifty-one. A woman just came out of the dome and she’s assisting someone, a man. That makes fifty-two.”

“The old man must be the one survivor of the original group,” Rianav said. She increased their speed and headed toward the road Portegin had mentioned.

No observer could miss the grid, despite the mud and windblown debris that covered its lattice design, for the soil was divided into squares as far as they could see in the rain.

“Got to give such people credit,” Portegin said. “Heavyworld stock or no, that’s quite a feat. Going from nothing to that in four decades.”

She went far enough across the plateau to confirm that the project was probably finished, then circled widely, heading back toward the settlement.

“Are we going to land?” Portegin asked as they approached. They could see that a crowd waited at the edge of the settlement. “The old man’s waving. He expects us to land.” Portegin seemed nervous.

“It is our mission after all, Portegin,” Rianav remarked dryly.

“And none of them have stunners or Aygar’s group would have had ’em ,” Titrivell added.

“Aygar might not have mentioned our encounter to anyone in authority,” Rianav said. “All his welcoming party were young.”

“It’s to their advantage, Lieutenant, to remain ‘unrescued’ until that colony ship arrives,” Titrivell added.

Portegin snorted. “But we’re here, aren’t we?”

“It’s not as if they won’t do very well under the Shipwreck Contingencies,” Titrivell said.

“Aygar has greater ambitions, as we heard,” Rianav noted. “That’s not our problem, fortunately. All we had to do was check out the distress call.”

She landed the sled a hundred meters from the crowd, passing control over to Portegin with the same instructions she had given before. With Titrivell behind her, she proceeded up the slight incline. The old man, the woman assisting him, hobbled forward as rapidly as he could with a badly twisted leg.

They might, Rianav thought, have had the metallurgy requisite to make a grid, but they’d missed out on medical skill. There had been a medic included in the original expedition, hadn’t there?

“You’re from the colony ship?” the old man exclaimed excitedly. “You’re orbiting? No need. See,” and he gestured to the plateau behind Rianav, “we’ve got the grid laid. You’ve only to lead the ship in.” He continued to move forward and Rianav realized that he was about to embrace her.

She backed off, saluting as a courteous way to avoid contact. “Your pardon, sir, Lieutenant Rianav of the Cruiser 218 Zaid-Dayan 43. We picked up your distress signal from the beacon—”

“Distress signal?” The old man drew himself up to a pridefully arrogant stance, his expression contemptuous. “We set no distress beacon.”

He’d been a powerful man at one time, Rianav thought objectively, but under his loose tunic, his muscles sagged, stretching the hide at its underseams. Pockets of flesh hung from his big bones.

“We were abandoned, yes. Most of our equipment smashed in a stampede. We could send no message. We’d lost all our sleds and the space shuttle. Those misbegotten, nardy high and mighty shippers never bothered their heads to come back. But we managed. We survived. We heavy-worlders do well on this planet. It’s ours. And so you forget that distress beacon. We didn’t set it. We don’t need your sort of help—You can’t rob us of what we’ve made.”

From the corner of her eye, Rianav saw Titrivell draw his stunner. The woman at the old man’s side noticed the movement and restrained him, murmuring something which cut through his angry renunciation.

“Huh? That?” He peered nearsightedly, and then his face took on a sneering look as he recognized the naked weapon. “That’s right. Come among peaceful folk with a stunner. Blast your way through us! Take all we’ve worked