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Zula has clearly planned this escape carefully. The thoats carry bags of
provisions,
and she tells you that she has brought a map and a compass. "We cannot
head straight
back towards Iskandr," she says. "That is what they will expect us to do
and is
where they will look for us. Though it is much further, at least four days
ride, we
must head towards Zark. Fortunately, since the war began Xodar have been
unable to get
fuel for their flyers - you may have noticed there were few vehicles on
the streets -
so we need not fear discovery from the air. Even so, it will be prudent to
travel
only at night and to rest by day."
You must have spent longer in the cell than you had thought, as it is now dusk, and as you struggle to mount your thoat you reflect that the only twentyfour hours of your life that you can remember have certainly been eventful ones. (The Martian day is almost the same length as Earth's.) Adrenalin must be keeping you going, as you don't feel that tired. You do feel hungry and thirsty, although your captors did give you a few crusts and a little water, but seeing to that can wait. To your relief, these thoats appear to be a different breed from those that the warriors who captured you were riding. These are rather smaller and seem more docile, though they still possess what seems to you an excessive number of legs. Perhaps six limbs is the standard for Martian animals; that would tie in with the green Martians having four arms. Once mounted, you find that controlling your steed is easier than you had feared. Zula sets your course in a direction that swiftly takes you behind a low ridge that will screen you from anyone happening to look your way from the direction of the city. After a few hours travelling through increasingly hilly terrain by the dim light of the Martian moons:
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10/5/2004 2:06:46 PM
Extending Enabled
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