Naturally, as soon as I was far enough from the Training center to put it out of my sight and out of my mind, I began to have doubts. My most immediate concern was that I had no food and no water. I belatedly wished that on my way out of the dark building I'd detoured through the kitchen and at least filled my canteen. As it was I would have to find my way to the river right away, or locate another source of water. Slimeberries provided some, but not enough. Perhaps I could find some fruit trees within the thick forest, for tree fruits usually contained adequate amounts of water for comfort.

Unfortunately, I had no clue at all as to where I was. I remembered the Pathic Training center being in the southeastern corner of the map we'd followed to reach it six months ago, which meant I should go west to find the river. I tried to judge which direction was west from the position of the sun in the sky, but I kept changing my heading as the day went on. It would have been easier at night, when I could identify directions by star patterns. But I couldn't travel at night without a torch, and the forest was too dense to safely carry one.

At least the weather was good, I told myself, trying to look at the positive side. Though, of course, rain could have solved one of my chief problems, at least temporarily. It was early autumn, a mild time of year, for which I was grateful. It also meant that tree fruits would be ripe.

Unfortunately I didn't encounter any fruit trees, and I didn't reach the river, either. I survived on only the ubiquitous slimeberries for two days until I managed to kill a small stonehead. What was left over I smoked and wrapped, hoping in this weather it would keep for a day or two. I was still desperate for water, though. I shuddered in revulsion at the thought of dying out here, after running away from Pathic Training. I couldn't think of a more disgraceful way to die. I told myself to stop thinking like that. If Tuck could survive after escaping that prison, I could certainly survive to get to...well, wherever I was going next. At least searching for the river gave me an objective. And at least I had my weapons. Tuck hadn't had that advantage.

At night I drew a compass in the dirt, according to the stars, and did my best not to change headings during the day. I also fashioned a funnel from soft wood, using my knife to carve, and inserted it into my canteen at night in hope of rain. All I found in three dawns were bugs. Morning dew only went so far. And even though I quickly got used to the taste of slimeberries again, I still dreaded them. I now understood Tuck's revulsion for the sour fruit � it was all he'd had to survive on after escaping from prison without his three teammates. The taste was certainly acute enough to evoke those unpleasant memories.

The third night it rained, and I could have shouted for joy, even if I was soaked by morning. Water had never tasted so sweet. I changed into the semi-dry uniform in my pack and starting moving early, while the position of the sun was still clear, for my markings in the dirt had been washed away. I was startled when, at about midday, I heard rustling in the bushes to my left. I carefully spun around, hand on my knife. A young man wearing a blue Col uniform and a mission badge stepped out and shrugged, grinning. "All right, you caught me," he said. "It was good practice anyway."

Regarding him warily, I asked, "How long have you been spying on me?"

"Half an hour maybe," he nonchalantly confessed, walking over. I didn't have his clean slate down perfectly yet, but I got the impression it hadn't been that long.

"I'm Nik Casay," he said, holding his hand out in a friendly greeting. "Missioneer."

"Likewise," I said, finally taking my hand off my weapon and cautiously shaking his. "I'm Bryt Sarliss. Is the rest of your team around?"

Nik held up one hand and tilted it back and forth. "I'm actually not on a mission right now. We were in a battle, and ended up lost from our group. That was about a week ago. There're four of us."

He wasn't telling the full truth. "You got lost from a battle on this side of the river?" I raised one eyebrow.

Nik sighed and dropped his cocky attitude. "Actually, we sort of ran from the battle. We were getting creamed...we were so outnumbered. Somehow the river was full of debris, and some of us managed to escape across it. None of us would have run if there were anything we could have done," he added defensively. "We met each other over here afterwards. Hey, you're not from the same battle, are you?"

I was about to shake my head, when I heard a distant call. "N � I � I � I � K!"

Nik cocked his head and grinned, the sun glinting off his blond hair shaved almost into nonexistence. "That's Furball," he explained. "It's okay to ignore him."

"Why?"

"I guess I just like to antagonize him. See, Furball doesn't want to go back. He's just a soldier, so there's not much for him." Nik spoke with no sympathy, and a fair amount of condescension. "Of course," he admitted more humbly, "Torrey and I were serving as soldiers, too, at the time. Probably will again if we go back. But I want to anyway. We're sure not doing any good out here, lost. Furball's afraid I'll find someone who'll take us back, or go myself and give him away � "

"N � I � I � I � I � K!" came a second yell.

Nik chuckled. "I won't leave without Torrey. He's a missioneer and he deserves to see another assignment, and he'll never leave these guys unless I pull him. I never told Furball that, of course." He grinned wickedly and shrugged. "What he doesn't know...won't hurt me."

I couldn't help smiling as I heard a third scream, "Nik, if you don't get back here right now I'm gonna pound your thick skull through your puny brain in like ten seconds!"

Nik smiled impishly at me, and yelled back, "That doesn't even make sense, you dumb animal!"

For a moment there was silence.

Then a new voice spoke. "Nik, just come back, please!"

"All right!" Nik sounded thoroughly satisfied with himself. He turned to me. "You want to meet the rest of the guys?"

Not having anywhere else to be, I shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

"Come on!" he grabbed my arm and led me through the trees. I didn't have time even to try to keep track of direction as he pulled me this way and that, making an awful lot of noise the whole time. I hoped no stealth missions in Baron territory were on his agenda for the near future.

"Nik, where have you been all day?" asked the voice that Nik had obeyed. "Really, sometimes I wish you would just stay or go." He stopped then, as we came into sight. "And who would this be?" the man asked in a quieter tone.

"This is Bryt Sarliss. She's a missioneer, too," Nik explained casually, though I could hear the pride in his voice. "Bryt, this is Torrey, who we've basically elected our Captain until we get back." Nik nodded his head toward the man who'd spoken, the only one of the four with much age and therefore, experience. Torrey appeared to be in his fourth or fifth decade, and though his shoulder-length black hair was streaked with gray, there was a vigor about him that the younger three seemed to lack. It was obvious why he'd been chosen their leader.

"Glad to meet you," said Torrey, extending his hand, which I took.

"This is Lonnie Furnible." Torrey gestured to the taller of the other two men. "We call him Furball."

"And I'm very pleased to meet you, too, Bryt." Furball extended his hand with a flourish. I politely accepted it, but made a mental note to be wary around him. Though he was handsome enough, I knew the look in his eyes and didn't like it.

Nik caught my gaze and rolled his eyes. "We haven't seen a woman in over a week," he said, as if in much-needed explanation. "Furball's just a little antsy."

Predictably, Furball lunged at Nik, fists swinging, until Torrey and the other man restrained him. Nik jumped out of the way with the expertise of much practice, laughing the whole time. Disgusted, I began to wonder what I was doing with these people.

"Someday I'll kill you!" Furball vowed as he stopped fighting. "Don't think for a second I won't. I'll kill you!"

Nik shrugged indifferently, but I caught the taunting leer as he faced Furball.

"Bryt, this is Cat," Torrey said patiently. The remaining man was wide-eyed and skinny, with olive skin and a shock of dark curly hair, and looked the youngest of them all.

"See, they call me 'Cat' since I'm kind of small and agile, like a cat, you know?" he explained quickly. "And also since my first name's Tom, so it sounds like 'tomcat' you know, since that's a kind of cat."

"Hi, Cat," I smiled and shook his shaking hand.

"What brings you out here, Bryt?" Torrey asked me. "Is the rest of your team here?"

He wanted to know for more reason than curiosity, I thought. And I approved, for, much as I disliked Nik's superior attitude, I had to agree that they should go back. As should I, I realized, loath as I was to do so. For just as surely as it meant a stretch of soldiery for them, it would mean one for me, too. I sighed and started telling half-truths.

"I left my team for Pathic Training," I explained. "We intended to meet up afterwards, but now I can't seem to find them."

"Really? How long have you been out here?" Torrey asked.

"Oh, just a few days," I affected unconcern, as if dying of thirst had never been a possibility.

"Well, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you like," he said congenially. "We're all lost, too."

I smiled.

"Did Nik already tell you our little story?" Torrey asked knowingly.

I nodded. "I don't...I mean, it's okay � " I stopped when Torrey held up a hand and briefly shook his head.

"Nik has a tendency to talk too much," Furball commented.

"Yes, well, let's keep moving," Torrey said quickly to forestall another argument.

"Where exactly are we going?" I wondered. "If you don't mind my asking."

Nik grinned and Torrey sighed. "Well," the leader began, "We say we're going back to the Col base area. That's where we should be going, after all." He glanced at Cat and Furball. "But we're not really expecting to get there."

"We don't even know if we're headed in the right direction," Cat said mournfully.

"We hope we're not," Furball snorted, much less subtle.

"I can understand your reluctance," I told them all. "I certainly wouldn't want to go back to be forced into battle. Even if it would do our cause more good than hiding out around here does."

Torrey shook his head almost imperceptibly at me as Furball snorted, "Our cause."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nik stopped in his tracks.

Furball regarded the young missioneer for a moment, then said dismissively, "Oughta know by now. You've heard me say it often enough. Just never had a girl to show off for before now."

I saw the flash of anger in Nik's blue eyes, and looked to Torrey, wondering if my presence in this group was more trouble than it was worth. Torrey put his hand on my arm and smiled in reassurance without slowing his pace, implying that this type of exchange was all too common.

"Oh, why don't you quit worrying about me and deal with yourself?" Nik asked haughtily. "Why don't you just go join a pac and be gone? I mean, look at you!" he continued before Furball could retort. "You don't want to go back and fight, you don't believe in your own cause...what are you even doing wearing a uniform?"

"You're one to talk, knowing I could outfight you in a second. That precious badge of yours won't help you a centimeter in a fair fight."

"Care to find out?" came Nik's quiet challenge.

"You know I've been waiting for it!" was Furball's instant, fervent reply.

"Enough! Or I'll take both your weapons!" Torrey raised his voice like a teacher disciplining miscreant students. Both scowling at their elected leader for reprimanding them in front of company they wished to impress, as well as glowering at each other, Nik and Furball finally resumed walking. Furball charged ahead and Nik lagged behind.

Cat fell into step next to me. "They do this a lot, you know," he told me quietly, his dark eyes wide. "It's not just since you're here or anything. Not that it doesn't make a difference to have a girl here, I mean, a girl like you here...a missioneer girl..." he managed to stammer. "I just wanted you to know that it's not your fault or anything, you know, so you wouldn't feel bad. I wouldn't want you to feel bad just because those two are jerks � to each other." Cat's last sentence was spoken with more contempt than I would have thought possible from the timid man. I gathered that Nik and Furball were pretty cruel to their shy young companion as well.

"It's okay," I smiled, patting Cat's arm in reassurance. He at least meant well, awkward as he was.

"I don't fight with them or anything, you know," he spoke up boldly, heartened. "I mean, not since...just since I don't have a reason to. I have more patience than they do. Yeah, a lot more. It's always their fault. Not that I can't take blame or anything. I would if it was my fault, but it's always their fault." Cat nodded his head to emphasize his point.

Torrey had been trying not to laugh, but at this point he failed. Cat turned to him, looking hurt. "Did I say something funny? I didn't mean to."

"I know," Torrey laughed.

"So...why are you laughing?"

"It's nothing, Cat." Torrey placed one hand on Cat's back and one hand on mine. "You're right. It is always their fault."

We kept walking more or less aimlessly until the sun set.