KIP saw the moving shape before he heard the screams from the others. He ran as hard as he could. "Silver! Centaur! Kill the centaur! All! Centaur!" The dogs raced ahead, all but Kodiak who stayed with Kip to search ahead where Kip would run, and Dawson who hung behind to watch the boy's back.
There was a chorus of growls and snarls from the charging dogs, then Silver howled a full hunting cry. Another. A third.
"Kip! What's going on out there?" It was Uncle Mike speaking through the phone in Kip's cap.
Hurriedly Kip thumbed the button on the cap and spoke into the microphone. "They ran ahead of me. Centaur after them!"
"Right." Uncle Mike wouldn't waste time with more questions or talk. Whatever was going on, if those boys had any chance it had to be from Kip. Before there could be any help from Starswarm Station it would be over, one way or another.
Kip reached the top of the rise. All three of the others were still on their feet. They'd scattered, and the centaur was confused about which one to chase. Now it turned toward Marty.
Kip knelt, raised his gun, and fired. The winking blue-green light flashed in front of the centaur, centimeters from his nose. Another, a pin of fiery light at its feet leaving a cinder and a puff of smoke. The centaur sprang and pivoted, turning away to spoil Kip's aim. More flame burst at his feet.
He turned and ran for his life. The furrykillers! Two of them on the ridge of the bowl, heading him off, and others snapping at his heels! He fumbled the ax from his belt.
There was a shrill whistle, and the furrykillers froze in their tracks. The centaur pivoted again and raced between a group of them. The furrykillers watched, growling but unmoving as the whistle sounded again. He ran a long time and he didn't look back until he'd got clear away.
Uncle Mike gave him the worst licking he'd ever had in his life. It was only the third time Uncle Mike used the big leather belt. Usually he just used his hands.
Kip bent over the big bedstead and stuffed the quilt into his mouth, biting hard so he wouldn't yell. Uncle Mike always added three or four more if he yelled.
Finally it was over. Kip stood in the bedroom snuffling, trying not to cry.
Uncle Mike sat on the bed and put his arm on Kip's shoulder. "You understand why, Kip?"
"Yes, sir. I said I'd look out for them." He sniffed and swallowed hard.
"Yes. You took on a duty. You didn't have to. But once you take on a duty, by God you do it!"
"Yes, sir. But they took my cap, and my gun, and pushed me down, and one of them tried to shoot Silver, and—"
"You told me that."
"But they did! They really did! and you don't believe me!"
"Kip, I believed you the first time you told me," Uncle Mike said. He drew Kip closer to him. It was nice there, held against Uncle Mike, but it hurt, and Uncle Mike wasn't fair!
"I believe you, Kip, but it's got nothing to do with what you did. You were supposed to be in charge. You had the only weapons, and you had the dogs. You shouldn't have let them take your gun, and you shouldn't have been dumb enough to let one get behind you. But after all that, you still had the duty and you didn't do it. When they walked away you should have been with them."
"Yes, sir." Kip began to cry in earnest now. He felt ashamed, and it hurt, and—
Uncle Mike shook his head slowly. "Am I pushing you too fast, Kip? Trying to make you grow up too early? But it's been so damned long, and we've got so much to do, and—and, aw, DAMN IT TO HELL!" But he wasn't mad at Kip anymore and he clutched the boy tightly to him, and Kip lay his head on Uncle Mike's shoulder and cried and cried because he didn't know what Uncle Mike was unhappy about and that was worse than the spanking.
Marty tried to tell Dr. Henderson that Silver had attacked him without warning or provocation. "He's a killer! That dog tried to kill me!"
"I should have thought he saved your life," Dr. Henderson said. "He and Kip."
"Ah, that thing couldn't have hurt me! It wasn't hardly bigger than I am."
Dr. Henderson thought of the fangs, and the thick claws on the left arm, and remembered a centaur that had lifted a caribou and broken its back with a single snap. He shuddered. Well, they'd learn—
"You going to do something about that dog or will I have to?" Marty demanded.
Dr. Henderson's lips drew tighter. "Martin, if you touch that dog I will make you wish you had never been born—"
"He's a killer! Tried to kill me!"
Lara had been sitting around the corner of the porch nursing her arm that was sore from another vaccination. Now she came into sight, laughing. Her tanned face was split by a wide grin, and her blue eyes twinkled, and she roared with laughter.
"You laughing at me?" Marty demanded.
"Sure. If Silver tried to kill you, how are you standing here talking to us?" she said. She laughed again. "And if you ever did hurt Silver, Daddy wouldn't have to do a thing, because the whole team would take turns biting pieces off of you—"
"That will do, Lara," Dr. Henderson said. "But, Martin, she is right on both counts. If Silver had wanted you dead, you would be dead. And if you harm him, I do not know which would be worse for you—for someone to be there to stop the team from tearing you apart so you will have to face me, or for there to be no one around."
"Aw—"
"Now go home. I must speak to your father. Not only did this happen, but you have disturbed the Starswarm. That could be extremely serious." Dr. Henderson's face was grim as he watched the boy shuffle away. "I hate this," he told his daughter. "I hate administration and problems and—"
So Lara knew her father was having more troubles with the Starswarms. Sometimes he thought he understood them, but then they'd do something else. Last night at dinner he'd raved because they'd found a big Starswarm in the sea and not only did it have chemically pure metals stored in little nuggets surrounded by thick tissues, but some of the nuggets were sorted by isotope.
And that was impossible, and Dr. Henderson wanted to think about it instead of worrying over a fight among the station's children.