The
Lobby is starting out to comb every village with a fault-finder,
starting here. And this hole will show up like a sore thumb. Better
start packing. We gotta be out of here in less than an hour!"
VIII
Fool
Three days later, Doc saw his first runner.
The tractor was churning through the sand just before sundown, heading
toward another one-night stand at a new village. Lou was driving, while
Doc and Jake brooded silently in the back, paying no attention to the
colors that were blazoned over the dunes. The cat-and-mouse game was
getting to Doc. There was no real assurance that the village they were
approaching might not be the target the Lobby had chosen for the next
investigation.
Lou braked the tractor to a sudden halt, and pointed.
A figure was running frantically over one of the low dunes with the
little red sun behind him. He seemed headed toward them, but as he drew
nearer they could see that he had no definite direction. He simply ran,
pumping his legs frantically as if all the devils of hell were after
him. His body swayed from side to side in exhaustion, but his arms and
legs pumped on.
"Stop him!" Jake ordered, and Lou swung the tractor. It halted squarely
in the runner's path, and the figure struck against it and toppled.
The legs went on pumping, digging into the dirt and gravel, but the man
was too far gone to rise.
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