Luchaver cut the water like a knife, kicking powerfully and propelling himself around the edge of the island. He held his breath as he swam beneath the surface, running a mental survey of his body. The human had missed, and quite a few times. It seemed there was little efficiency to the gunblade he carried. Luchaver arched his back and surfaced, drawing in a deep breath of cool night air. He could have swum all the way back to the mainland, but knew the activity would exhaust him. And his drysuit was now soaked on the inside. He changed course, cutting back toward the landward side of the island and sliding out of the water. He knew another path back to the mainland, a path which would prevent the humans from following him.
He grabbed the old rowboat and dragged it down the stony beach in
