she was required to do. Clearwater's heart alternately leapt

and quailed at the thought of going to the cloud-warrior and the dread

of what might happen if they were found together.

She knew that Mr Snow would not have asked her to risk death and

dishonour unless it was necessary. She also knew that if she did what

was required without the rest of the clan knowing, the cloud-warrior

would go, leaving her to face Cadillac weighed down by the shameful

knowledge that she had betrayed him. And that would be like dying

too.

But she was a child of the Plainfolk; of the clan M'CalI, from the

bloodline of the She-Kargo. And as Mr Snow had said to Steve, the

M'Calls had the courage to accept their destiny.

Death-Wish left to return to the main settlement as Clearwater prepared

the evening meal she was to share with her clan-sisters. Both sisters

were unaware that their portions contained a liberal dose of Dream Cap.

Cooked with food, it acted as a strong sedative and within an hour both

slipped away gently into a deep sleep.

Confident that neither would wake until the sun was at the head of the

sky on the following day, Clearwater went to the rock-pool where her

clan-sisters had provided Death-Wish with a frolicsome combination of

sex and hygiene and carefully washed her newly-patterned body.

Returning to the hut, she knelt before it on the woven mats and sang to

herself as she braided fresh flowers into her hair and rubbed a

fragrant oil onto her arms, breasts, belly and thighs. The song she

sang was about a She-Wolf who lay with her young warrior-love through

the time of the New Earth only to lose him at Summer-Dawn when he fell

under the knives of a marauding clan. A sad, keening lament that

brought tears to her eyes.

And so it was that, on the last night before Cadillac and Mr Snow

returned, Steve stirred sleepily and discovered Clearwater snuggling

down beside him under his wolf-skins.

As his eyes snapped wide open, she laid a warning finger on his lips

and then embraced him. The touch of her lips on his, the electric

shock that ran through him as her supple body slid sinuously against

his own, nearly blew the top of his head off. It was unbelievable.

Out of this world.

Putting the bomb in the barrel with Lundkwist was nothing compared with

this. Steve might not know what the word love meant but he knew how it

felt. It made his heart leap; made him feel he would suffocate with

sheer joy. It was all coming true; it was happening; she was here;

lithe, eager, vibrant, sensual, demanding, yet, at the same time, it

seemed totally unreal.

As they lay together in the darkness, tenderly locked in each other's

arms, their love-making had a gentle dream-like quality, far removed

from the sweaty clash of lamp-tanned muscled limbs, the mechanical

thrust and counterthrust, the feeling of disassociation that

accompanied his previous sexual encounters. They were borne aloft on a

wave of emotion, transported to another plane, another timeless

dimension beyond the bounds of physical reality.

This isn't really happening, thought Steve. My imagination's working

overtime. But no. When he woke again in the first grey light of dawn

he found Clearwater nestled sleepily against him, her legs interlocked

with his. It took a few seconds to collect his thoughts then the

reality of the situation hit Steve like a sledgehammer between the

eyes.

'Christopher Columbus . . I' he whispered to himself.

What they had done was the height of folly: if discovered it would

destroy the relationships he had carefully built up, demonstrate his

total disregard of the clan's social values and bring death to them

both.

Clearwater was also full of regrets. Not for what they had done, but

because her desire for Steve had placed his life in jeopardy. She took

his face in her hands and told him that there was only one solution to

the jam they had landed themselves in. He must escape on the arrowhead

he had built.

Steve gathered her into his arms. 'I'm not leaving here unless you

promise to come with me."

Clearwater put her hands on his chest. 'That is madness.

There is no place on the arrowhead for me!" Steve knew she was

right.

There was no way that BlueBird could carry both of them. The wing