21Being called away from camp suggested only one thing. Dr. Withers wanted to have a conversation out of earshot of anyone else. Marlowe brought her to the outcropping where Dr. Withers waited. Something behind Marlowe's expression begged Chione not to judge him too harshly.
“You wanted to see me?” she asked.
Dr. Withers stood with chin uplifted and hands clasped behind his back, silently gazing out toward the glowing horizon of late afternoon. He greeted them quietly. “We need to talk,” he said.
“For that, we have to hide behind the rocks?” Chione asked.
“The others would laugh, you know? Marlowe won't.”
“You're expecting me to intuit something?”
“Not exactly.”
“Dr. Withers, what is it?”
It was another Sabbath with the site partially deserted. Occasional noises filtered up from th
