He was in the forest running, carrying the tracking device between his teeth. Two choppers were following him overhead, but he was deep in the forest and couldn't be easily seen. Ahead he was approaching a stream and for twenty strides there would be no cover overhead. He slowed down, looking up warily, but didn't stop. As he broke into the open, the choppers swooped down on him flying so close that the turbulence in the air nearly blew him over. The choppers circled several times and then disappeared back the way they had come.
"False alarm," the pilot in the chopper said to his co-pilot, "It was just a rhutz chasing a rabbit. Our tracking unit must be malfunctioning. We'll have to have it checked when we get back to base."
The rhutz felt relieved as he watched them fly away, content that he had done all that he could do. He had drawn the soldiers away from the Liberator and given his companions and he time to get to safety; at least he hoped that was the case. He wasn't sure where they were going, but he assumed they were going to hide in one of the mine shafts during the daylight while the Drogals were on the prowl. Who was this Liberator and why was he in these mountains? When their eyes first met he had learned much. They called him Leek but that was not his real name and he was not from Tarizon, but the planet Earth. He was the one the prophets had often spoken of, the Liberator—here to help free the Nanomites, the Seafolken, and the Mutants who had been enslaved by the Central Authority and soon would be slaughtered, if Videl were able to stay in power. Soon Peter, as they called him on Earth, would be fighting with the loyalists to regain control of the planet. Success was imperative for his species. Although the rhutz on Tarizon were not enslaved, as they would sooner die than do another's bidding, Videl had targeted them for eradication as a worthless species to the planet. After all, he told his cronies, if he couldn't control them, what use were they to him?
The rhutz started to go back to the cave where his pack lived. Then he began to worry. What if the boy—for his companions and he seemed so young—what if they didn't make it back to their hiding place before first light? As the rhutz considered that for a moment he realized it was a real possibility. At their slow rate of travel they might indeed face daylight before they got to safety. The rhutz trotted over to the stream and dropped the tracking device into the water. He watched it for a moment float away and then turned and began running back through the forest.
He had found the spot where he had first seen the four humans and taken the tracking device from them. He sniffed around until he was able to pick up their scent and then began following their trail. Late that morning he trotted up a hill and ran across several dead soldiers. The strong reek of death almost made him lose the trail. He sniffed around for a long time until he caught it again and continued on his way. As he reached the crest of the next hill he looked down at the field of battle. There were no bodies here, as they had surely been taken away by the Drogals, but there was plenty of evidence of what had happened. Abandoned weapons, remnants of uniforms, and military gear of every sort scattered about. The Drogals would be dining royally this day, he thought.
The rhutz trotted on until he spotted a giant pile of boulders where once the opening of a mine shaft had been. He remembered it. A busy place cycles ago before the great volcano erupted. He hadn’t been there himself, but the memory had been passed down to him by his mother. He sniffed around again as he had lost the scent he'd been following. Frantically he paced back and forth trying to pick it up again, but to no avail. He lied down to think. What had happened here? Then he knew. The Liberator and his companions somehow had been buried below the rubble. Fear and worry overcame him. The Liberator was dead. He hadn't done enough to protect him. All was lost.