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and then she was there.

"Oh, God!"

Favorito cried. She knelt down beside him and peered down at the white shape. Anna felt her mind functioning very clearly. Chang's helmet had been removed and tossed aside. His body, lying on its side, had created a small drift of sand, and his cheek appeared to be pillowed on it. Chang looked as if he were asleep, mouth hanging askew, eyes closed, weather-beaten face slack. Sand clung to his eyelashes and collected in the pocket of his lips. His fine grayish-white hair blew raggedly around his face. His life-signs detector was flashing red. Favorito had cleared the sand away from his chest. A hole had been burned through his suit and through the top several inches of his chest cavity. She was no expert, but from what she'd seen on the news feeds, it looked like a PPG blast.

Suddenly her fear of aliens jumping out of dark caves seemed ridiculous, and she thought of Donne, who had been in Chang's party. Favorito began to sob, the sound coming through the link.

"Chang has been shot," she told the others, who were beginning to gather around.

"Look for a PPG."

The ship had been equipped with arms, though they were only in case of emergency. Chang had access, and perhaps Captain Hidalgo did-she didn't know. She remembered Chang, in his quarters, handing her the PPG. He'd been worried, and he'd warned her.

She felt the pockets of his suit, searching for the PPG he'd said he was going to get for himself. It was in the thigh pocket, just as hers was. She worked it clumsily out. The gun told her nothing. It seemed unlikely that anyone would have shot Chang with it and then returned it to his pocket. Morden knelt on one knee on the far side of Chang and linked to the subgroup.

"If he'd known what was coming, he would have
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