“There's water here!” shouted Om. “We need it! But-there's probably one or two drawbacks!”
“What kind of drawbacks?”
“As in natural hazards!”
“Like-?”
“Well, you know lions?” said Om desperately.
“There's lions here?”
“Well . . . slightly.”
“Slightly lions?”
“Only one lion.”
"Only one-
"-generally a solitary creature. Most to be feared are the old males, who are forced into the most inhospitable regions by their younger rivals. They are eviltempered and cunning and in their extremity have lost all fear of man-'
The memory faded, letting go of Brutha's vocal chords.
“That kind?” Brutha finished.
“It won't take any notice of us once it's fed,” said Om.
“Yes?”
“They go to sleep.”
“After feeding-?”
Brutha looked round at Vorbis, who was slumped against a rock.
“Feeding?” he repeated.
“It'll be a kindness,” said Om.
“To the lion, yes! You want to use him as bait?”
“He's not going to survive the desert. Anyway, he's done much worse to thousands of people. He'll be dying for a good cause.”
“A good cause?”
“I like it.”
There was a growl, from somewhere in the stones. It wasn't loud, but it was a sound with sinews in it. Brutha backed away.
“We don't just throw people to the lions!”
“He does.”
“Yes. I don't.”
“All right, we'll get on top of a slab and when the lion starts on him you can brain it with a rock. He'll probably get away with an arm or a leg. He'll never miss it.”
“No! You can't do that to people just because they're helpless!”