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and the others- "On a line by the fire," she said. "You were shaking so badly I had to get the sopping stuff off you. Mine was wet, too."
        "You were right," he said. He had been quick enough to subordinate Sol's modesty to need; the same applied to himself. He wondered how she had gotten the clothing off him; he was certainly too heavy for her to lift. There must have been a real chore, there.
        "I think they're dry now," she said. "But the moths-"
        He saw the material of the tent enclosing them. She had situated the fire so that it radiated through the light netting In front, heating the interior without flooding it with smoke. She had placed the two men prone, heads near the heat, while she kneeled between their feet at the far end, leaning over so that the sloping nylon did not touch her back. It could hardly be a comfortable position, though from this angle it showed her unsupported bosom off to advantage.
        He rebuked himself for his preoccupation with her body at such an inappropriate time. Yet it always came to this; he could not look at her without turning physical, any time. This was the other fear of his erstwhile dream: that be would covet his companion's wife and be led to dishonor. Sola had acted with eminent common sense and dispatch, even courage, and it was an insult to put a sexual meaning on it. She was naked and desirable.. . and wore another man's bracelet.
        "Maybe I can fetch the clothing," he said.
        "No. The moths are 'everywhere-much thicker than before. Stupid is gorging himself-but we can't put a hand outside."
        "I'll have to stoke up the fire pretty soon." It was cold outside, and his feet could feel it despite the greenhouse effect of the closed tent. He could see her shivering, since she was more distant from the blaze.
        "We can lie together," she said. "It will keep us all warm, if you can stand my weight."
        Again, it made sense. The tent was not wide enough for three, but if she lay on top of the two men there would be both room and a prism of warmth. Both were in urgent demand. She was being supremely businesslike about it; could he be less?
        Her thigh rubbed against his foot, a silken contact as she adjusted her weight. Intimate messages ran up his leg.
        "I think his fever is broken," she said. "If we can keep him warm tonight, he may improve tomorrow."
        "Maybe the shrew venom counteracted the moth poison," he said, glad to change the subject. "Where are we now? I don't remember getting here."
        "Over the pass, the other side of the river. I don't think they can catch up to us here. Not tonight. Do they travel at night?"
        "I wouldn't think so. Not if they travel by day. They must sleep sometime." He paused. "Straight in from the river? That means we're that much farther into the badlands."
        "But you said the radiation is gone."
        "I said it is retreating. I don't know how far or fast. We could be in it now."
        "I don't feel anything," she said' nervously.
        "You can't feel it." But it was a pointless discussion. They had no way to escape it, if they were in the fringe zone. "If the plants haven't changed, it must be all right. It kills everything." But insects were a hundred times as tolerant as man, and there were more moths than ever.
        The conversation lapsed. He knew what the problem was: though they had agreed on the necessity to conserve heat, and knew what was called for, it was awkward initiating the action. He could not boldly invite her to lay her generous breasts against his naked body, and she could not stretch upon him without some specific pretext. What was intellectually sensible remained socially awkward-the more so because the prospect of such contact excited him, practical as its purpose might be, and he war sure it would show. Perhaps it interested her as well, since they both knew that Sol would never embrace her.
        "That was