A pulser shot was the answer. Overhead several huge leaves crumpled. The angle of the shot was different. Racer was trying to edge around the clearing. Severance slipped away from the shelter of the tree trunk, paused to let a small creature with oversize antenna scurry out of the way, and then padded quietly to a different position.

“Be careful, Racer. You never know whose mouth you’ll step into out here. Maybe something like a killweaver. Something that takes its time sucking a man dry.”

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There was a silence from the other side of the clearing. Too much silence. Severance could guess what Racer’s imagination must be doing to him. He knew damn well that his own imagination was operating in high gear. Grimly he clamped down on it, refusing to let himself see fangs in every trailing vine. That kind of thinking wasn’t going to get him far. Slowly he worked deeper into the vegetation. Racer would stay close to the clearing’s edge while he tried to find Severance.

There was a flash of movement at Severance’s right shoulder. He froze. A long, forked tongue emerged from between jaws that could grind rocks. The tongue tasted the air and then delicately extended to taste Severance’s sleeve.

There was no way he could lift the pulser and fire it before the scaled head struck. Severance didn’t move, hoping the fabric of his sleeve wouldn’t taste very good. Beyond the tongue, two small eyes that looked like bottomless pits stared at him. The tongue touched the sleeve and flicked about in confusion. Severance didn’t move.

“I’m willing to talk, Severance. We can deal. We were partners once. For old time’s sake I’m willing to make a deal.”

Racer’s voice came from somewhere behind Severance. He didn’t dare turn around. He would have to rely on the vegetation to conceal him while he waited for the tongue to finish sampling his sleeve. The death that lurked in the creature’s eyes was closer and more certain man the death in Racer’s weapon.

At the sound of the voice from another location the tongue darted about in more agitated confusion. Finally it disappeared back into the rock-crunching jaws. With another flash of movement the baleful eyes vanished too. Severance began to breathe again. Turning slowly, he listened to Racer. The other man was only a few meters away now, but he couldn’t yet be seen.

“You’ll need my help to get back to the camp. You left your little Harmonic there, didn’t you? If you don’t get back by dusk, she’ll be food. Come on, Severance. You don’t want that. The longer you play this hunt-and-stalk game, the weaker those deflectors are getting.”

Severance said nothing. He was too close. He caught a glimpse of clothing as Racer edged forward in the undergrowth. The other man slipped past within arm’s reach.

“I’m going to call for help, Severance. Another skimmer can get here by midday tomorrow. You want that distress call put in as much as I do.”

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Severance waited a few more seconds and then glided forward until he was directly behind the other man. “Drop the pulser or I’ll end this now.”

Racer went still, but he didn’t drop the weapon. “You won’t kill me, Severance. You need my help. And I’m willing to give it.”

“I need you about as much as I need a visit from a dracon. Drop the pulser.”

“Bastard!” Racer broke, diving into the tangled vines and leaves to his right.

Severance raised the pulser but held his fire as he listened to the other man charging wildly through the undergrowth. Racer was in full flight, and he was in a panic.

The scream that echoed through the jungle a moment later was almost anticlimactic. Severance tensed, waiting for it to be cut off with the usual deadly abruptness. He didn’t want to think about what had gotten Racer.

But the scream didn’t die. It kept reverberating, chilling Severance’s nerves. He would have given a great deal of credit to have it cease. But there was no escape from it. Racer kept screaming.

There was no walking away from that kind of human fear and despair. No man deserved to die that slowly. Severance worked his way toward the terrified cries. He kept the pulser in front of him, dreading what he might see. The sound wasn’t shifting direction. Whatever held Racer was confident enough not to bother carrying its prey back to its lair.

Severance edged around a leaf wider than he was tall and stared at the predator that held the screaming man. It was a flower. The most spectacularly beautiful flower he had ever seen. Huge, lacy petals shimmered gold and purple and red, the colors flowing into each other. The whole thing was twice as big as Racer.

He had blundered into the very heart of the flower and was now held fast by a sticky center. The huge, lacy petals were just beginning to fold shut, enclosing their prey. Racer’s pulser lay on the soft, musty ground.

“Severance! Severance, save me! Stop it. You can’t let this happen. You know you can’t. You’d never be able to live with yourself. You were always so big on doing things by your own damned code. Let me die like this and your reeting honor won’t mean a thing. And you’ll know it. You’ll know it, even if no one else does. For the rest of your life you’ll know it. You’ll have to live with it the way I’ve lived with it. Waiting. Always waiting for someone to find out.”

Severance looked at the flower, fascinated by the lethal beauty. The edges of a couple of the lacy leaves had just begun to cradle Racer as if he were a lover. Racer screamed again as he felt their touch. He tried to pull one hand free from the sticky substance and failed. His face was a mask of growing terror.

“Severance, it’s starting to eat me. I can feel it. Stop it. You’ve got to stop it!”

“I’m trying to think of one good reason.” Severance waited. “Come on, Racer. Give me one good reason. After what you’ve done…”

“It was an accident,” Racer screamed. He was almost incoherent now. “I never meant to kill him. He wasn’t supposed to die. How did I know he’d follow that signal into the ground? Do you hear me, Severance? I didn’t intend to kill Jeude.”

Severance felt as if a giant shock wave had caught him and hurled him to the ground. He was still standing, but there was something wrong. He wanted to scream too. Not in fear but in rage. Slowly he raised the pulser and took aim at the base of the flower. He squeezed the trigger. It took three shots to eat through the tough fibers of the deceptively graceful stem.

The flower, severed from its base, fell limply to the jungle floor. Racer was still trapped inside. He was weeping uncontrollably when Severance reached him. Carefully Severance pried open the lacy leaves, using the pulser once or twice. Then, avoiding any contact with the sticky, hairy heart, he reached down and pulled Racer free.

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