as simple as a fungicide or antibiotic, because they're like painkillers—too unpredictable on stingweed cases. I don't have either the equipment or the skill to monitor you, or take corrective action if you should have a bad reaction, and I sure don't want to make things worse. I can keep the wounds clean and use cold water to help keep the fever down, and … well, I'll do anything else I can think of to slow the poison down. But it won't be a whole lot."

"I appreciate the honesty." And, Tarlac thought, the fact that he'd been lucky enough to be rescued by someone who could appreciate the fact of his own limitations! Not too many people of any age, in his experience, had that much judgement. Too bad Dave's assessment was so negative—but from what he'd said, Tarlac was able to take grim amusement in the fact that he wouldn't be worrying about it much longer. This mess would be a lot harder on the youngster than it would on the one who should be in charge— He broke off that pointless line of thought. "Just keep me breathing till Friday morning, if you can— the Marines will be landing as soon as it's full light, and there'll be Navy mediteams with them. If they can get me into a lifepod, I'll have a pretty good chance."

"I'll do what I can, of course." Dave frowned. "That's less than forty-eight hours … the rebels'll be looking for us too, but I don't think they'll get to us very fast."

"Don't be too sure," Tarlac cautioned. "Lord Robert is a fanatic, and he thinks I'm his key to ruling at least a Subsector. He'll be after me, and I'm willing to bet his people have the equipment they need to find us."

Dave shook his head. "It's not as easy as you make it sound, sir. People who've wanted to be found have been lost in these mountains for weeks. We don't want to be—and we're in a cave, which'll make it that much harder for them." He hesitated, a thought surfacing. "Unless they search on foot, and happen across us. If they do, I guess it'll be up to me to decoy them away."

Tarlac didn't like that idea, but he also didn't have Lord Robert's convenient ability to ignore unpleasant reality. A Ranger was, to put it bluntly, far more valuable to the Empire than any youngster. It was a hell of a note, he thought sourly, that he had to look at it that way; Dave had saved his life once already, and it would be his doing if Tarlac lived through the next couple of days. The fact that Dave would get a substantial reward if they made it out wasn't a lot of help; dammit, part of his job was protecting Imperial citizens! Still… "I'm afraid it will."

To his surprise, Dave grinned. "That shouldn't be too hard. Those rebels're city people; they don't know what real mountains're like. Chaos, I don't think they'd even know to avoid something as simple as a trapper vine!"

"This is no holo show," Tarlac cautioned him. "If they do find us, we've bought it."

"I know—but Mom was a Marine for thirty years and never even saw a live Ranger. I go on a camping trip, and end up helping one, against a bunch of rebels!"

Looked at that way, Tarlac conceded with some amusement, it did have something in common with a holoshow. And maybe having Dave treat this as an adventure wouldn't hurt—might even help, by keeping his morale up. It was a good bet the youngster would need all the pluses he could find … he damnsure wouldn't be one! The way he felt, he wouldn't even be conscious much longer. Which would be a definite improvement…

Dave spent the rest of that day alternating between caring for the unconscious Ranger and watching rebel aircars crisscross the sky in what seemed, from the little he could see through trees, to be ever-widening search patterns. The rebels did think they were alive, then, but didn't have enough of an idea of where they might be to mount a concentrated search. So far, so good—though if things stayed this way, it would work against them later, when the Marines landed and they wanted to be found.

That was more than a day away, though, he thought as the sun began to set. He rigged a door out of blankets, to block any lamplight that might get past the turns in the cave. He should have done that the night before, he told himself, but it simply hadn't occurred to him; it was just luck that they'd gotten away with his lack of foresight.

The night passed, but more slowly than he'd realized would be possible. Tarlac was delirious for several hours, and Dave spent most of that time wrapping him in cold-water-soaked blankets, wiping his face, and trickling water into his mouth. Shortly before dawn, to Dave's combined relief and worry, delirium deepened into coma and Dave's fatigue forced him to take advantage of the silence for a nap.

When he woke, he heard aircars again. They sounded closer than they had the day before, and worry turned into fear. The rebels might not be wilderness experts, the way Nemra's Rescue Service people were, but it didn't take that kind of expert to tell the difference between a mountain-prowler's yowling and a sick man's fever-induced cries. He'd been concerned about that all night, but hadn't been able to do anything about them—and now it looked like the rebels knew at least their general location. Only the general location, he hoped, since they were still searching from cars. That was standard procedure for the Rescue Service, at least, so he tried to ignore them while he cared for his patient.

He'd gotten used to the smell, for which he was grateful. That and the fact that Tarlac was beyond the reach of pain were the only good parts he could see. The poison was spreading steadily, but—as long as he kept the oozing fluid cleaned off, and kept Tarlac's temperature as low as he could—slowly. Maybe slowly enough that he'd live through the next twenty-four hours, if Dave could keep going that long. And if he didn't have to leave the Ranger alone to play decoy.

He frowned, thinking as he worked. Playing decoy if the rebels got close had been his idea, and he was still pleased that Tarlac had thought it a good enough one to agree with. It still would be, and it would work, Dave thought, if Tarlac were strong enough to be left alone—and preferably were able to defend himself, just in case. But he'd put Dave in charge precisely because he wasn't able to do for himself!

It was scary being responsible for someone else's safety, Dave was realizing. Especially when you were a commoner, the someone else was royalty, and a powerful noble—a crazy, traitorous noble—would stop at nothing to recapture him. Dave glanced across the cave to the small ledge where he'd put the disruptor—out of the way, but easy to get to—and shivered. The only alternative he could see to playing decoy was using the cave as a fort if the rebels found them, and that didn't sound much better now than it had the first time he'd thought of it. One disruptor without even a single spare powerpack wasn't much to build hopes on. He'd do what he could, of course, but he still couldn't help wishing he hadn't ventured into Lord Robert's camp and gotten himself into all this!

He sighed. He had gotten himself into it; now, if he could, he'd get both of them out. The first step was to get the Ranger to as much safety as the cave held—which meant the spring. Good thing it wasn't far!

Half an hour later he'd filled his emergency containers with a day's worth of drinking water and settled Tarlac as comfortably as possible into the runoff stream. It wasn't ideal, but at least it would keep the fever down and the injuries mostly clean while he did what he could to make the cave defensible.

He discovered quickly that he could do very little. Wood from fallen limbs and whatever brush he could cut with the stolen hunting knife would provide little protection from stunner fire, and none at all from the blasters or disruptors he thought the rebels were likelier to use. And there wasn't enough loose rock—in sizes he could move, anyway—to block the cave entrance. He supposed he could use his disruptor to