Ungo clipped: "The screen-room—! The screen-room of Gundre's own fleet flagship, down on Vesta!"
Mute, Jarl Corvett nodded; focussed.
Now a new figure appeared before the screen ... the iron-backed, handsome figure of High CommissionerreyGundre. Deep lines etched his lean face. His hair was mussed, his tunic-collar open. But he stood erect, and his eyes were cold as Pluto's ice-things.
His voice came, harsh and savage: "Youstarbos! If you've laid one finger on my daughter, I swear by every god from here to Arcturus that you'll die by inches!"
A spark of quick admiration touched Jarl Corvett; and with it came flooding a feeling that was almost pity.
But he held his face cold, and twisted his lips in a mocking, mirthless smile. "Brave talk, Commissioner!" And then: "You can have her back, you know ... in exchange forKtarWassreck!"
reyGundre's mouth twisted. "Youchitza! You know he's gone!"
"Then get him back."
"From theslan-chambers, the Venus headquarters?"reyGundre cursed.
"From hell, if need be!" Jarl took a quick half-step forward; stood with hands on hips, feet wide apart, in fierce, cold-eyed defiance. He let his voice ring: "The choice is yours, Commissioner! How much do you love her? Take your pick now! It's her, orKtarWassreck!"
The older man brought up a fist that shook with fury. His face worked in a twitching spasm. "I'll blast you, Corvett! By the gods, I'll blast you—!"
"Blast, then," Jarl shrugged. "Blast, and be damned! But remember—your daughter's with us!"
Things happened to the other's face, then ... things that were not good to see. The cheeks sagged, and the mouth went limp, and the eyes' fire dulled to coals of pain. Of a suddenreyGundre was no longer the high commissioner, but only a shriveled husk of a man all at once grown old beyond his years.
He swayed, then turned, as if he had forgotten Jarl and the raiders. "Atak, what can I do—?" It was a plea, a supplication.
HisMalyaaide moved into view beside him on the screen. The dark, rough-hewn face had the set of granite. "Corvett...."
Jarl forgot his pity. Sudden needles of tension pricked at his neck. "Yes."
"Tell me, raider—have you heard ofKtarWassreck's new projector?"
"Yes."
"And that we've already set it up—that this moment it's geared for action?"
Woodenly, Jarl nodded.
TheMalya'seyes grew black as the void. "Then know another thing. Jarl Corvett! Know that we've plotted your course as you ranged off from Vesta."
Chill tendrils brushed Jarl's spine. But he held his face blank, without emotion. "And so—?"
"So you, too, have a choice to make, raider—the choice between coming back, or trying to cross the void in a short-flight carrier."
Jarl shrugged and forced the thin vestige of a smile. "A good threat,Malya. It might break me—if I believed it."
"But you do not?"
"No projector has the range to reach my ship from Vesta."
"More power lies in cosmic dust than you can dream of, raider." Atak's eyes were bleak, his dark face set in a mask of menace. "You've made your choice, Corvett! Now set your cross for your own ship—and live with the decision!"
The viziscreen went blank.
"Jarl ..." whispered Big Ungo. "Quick, Jarl, get a cross on the ship!"
The crewmen's voices were muttered echoes.
With an effort, Jarl kept his movements casual. Wordless, he spun the dials.
TheGhost'slooming bulk took form, drifting through the emptiness of space.
In the stillness, Atak's voice blared through the audio unit. "Are you ready, raider? Are you watching?"
Jarl cursed him.
TheMalyalaughed harshly. "I press a button...."
Numb, stiff with tension, Jarl stared at the screen, hardly conscious of the crewmen crowding round him.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then, before his very eyes, theGhostbegan to glow.
It came slowly, at first—the faintest touch of pale phosphorescence.
But with every heartbeat, it shone brighter. In seconds the hull was weirdly agleam as with some strange, penetrating light.
Then the ship rocked wildly. He could see the plates begin to buckle.
"No—!" screamed a crewman. "No! My brother—!"
Wallowing, theGhostflamed bright as athes-wood torch. Proton cannon streamed blazing, aimless death. The hull began to cave, then burst asunder. Like aneidel-bomb exploding, it tore apart in great, flaring sections that blasted out through space, beyond the viziscreen's frame edges.
Slowly, the weird light faded; died. The blackness of the void closed in.
Like men paralyzed, the raiders stared unspeaking into the awful emptiness where short moments before theGhosthad drifted.
It came to Jarl Corvett that he was trembling. Numb-fingered, he reached out and snapped off the viziscreen.
The sound of the switch triggered loose the tension. At his elbow, Ylana burst into hysterical, wildly-triumphant laughter. "You see—? Will you believe me now, when I tell you what fate awaits you?"
Pivoting, Jarl slapped her across the mouth with all his might.
She crashed to the floor against the carrier's farthest wall; lay there in a crumpled, moaning heap.
The crewmen fell back a step, all eyes on Jarl. He could not read their stony faces.
"Jarl...." Ungo's voice was shaking. "Jarl, you saw it—?"
The others' words were sullen echoes.
Jarl moved away from them a fraction, till his back was against the viziscreen. He let his hand hang close to his ray-gun.
He said: "We're wasting time. Even in this carrier, we still can make Ceresta."
They stared at him, all of them—Ungo, Ylana, the three hard-eyed crewmen. Then, suddenly, aChonyablurted, "You're mad, Jarl! What chance would we have against that projector?"
"You can forget the projector." Jarl jerked his head in the direction of Ylana. "As long as she's aboard, they won't dare use it."
"But across the void...." The raiders exchanged fearful glances.
"Would you rather die on Venus?"
Big Ungo shifted. "But Ceresta, Jarl—it's too far to go. There are other places nearer, safer."
"And the raider fleet—?" In spite of himself, Jarl's voice was bitter.
"The fleet—?"
"How long do you think the Federation will wait to strike, now that they've got this new projector?" Jarl laughed, harsh and curt. "By now, the armorers will be fitting them into every ship. Tomorrow they'll be blasting down on Ceres."
He could see new fear come alive in the others' eyes. It put iron in him.
He lashed out: "Are your own necks all that you can think of? Does it mean nothing to you that good friends will die and, with them, all freedom?—That the outlaw worlds at last will be forced to bow their necks to the yoke of the Federation?"
The others' eyes fell. The raiders looked away and shifted.
Jarl said: "That's one of the reasons why we're going to Ceresta. WithreyGundre's daughter there, the Federation fleet will hold off striking."
Big Ungo looked up, still half-sullen. "You said that was one reason. What others are there?"
A knot drew tight in Jarl Corvett's belly. "We came to Vesta to saveKtarWassreck. Now they claim he has betrayed us."
"But what—?"
"Sais is at Ceresta." The knot drew tighter. "If it's true, if Wassreck has gone over, then we'll need her for a hostage."
Again the silence echoed.
Then, suddenly, theChonyacrewman cried, "To hell with that! You don't give afilanfor Ceresta!" His voice went raw with angry passion. "We know what you want! It's Sais you're after—not as a hostage, but a woman!"
Face contorted, he clawed for his blaster.
Jarl whipped up his ray-gun—twisting, firing.
TheChonyacrashed back, dead.
Hate seethed in Jarl Corvett, a boiling, red-hazed murder-fury. He shook in a spasm of unbridled passion.
"Youchitzas!" he shouted. "I'll kill you all—even you, Ungo—"
The great Jovian's face twitched. But there was no fear in it. Bleakly, he lumbered forward, towering. His deep voice rasped: "Kill ahead, Jarl. Any time you want to." His massive shoulders seemed to draw together. "I'm with you now, Jarl. I've always been. But I'll speak my mind when I think I need to—to you, or the devil!"
Jarl's tide of fury ebbed and died. The ray-gun dropped to his side, and of a sudden he was shaking. "Ungo...."
"I know, Jarl. It doesn't matter." Ungo's taloned hand was like a steadying pillar. "Go ahead. Give your orders."
Numb, sick, Jarl Corvett slowly straightened, and breathed deep.
He said, "Our course is still Ceresta!"
CHAPTER V
Ceresta: Port Royal of the void; sprawling, anarchical capitol city of the outlaw worlds.
Here were burrows of Rhea's spider men, andPervodcones, andFantayspires. Hive-like Mercurian domes rose amid the flat-roofed dwellings of thellorin. ThrobbingTransmidrums beat out their savage rhythm, echoing over voices that spoke in Pluto's clacking accents and the reptilian sibilances of creatures from the ammonia-and-methyl swamplands of Saturn and the Rings. There was the acrid smell of Rogek gas and rocket fuel—and the stink of the bulbous, grub-likeMah'hamthat fed on their own dead. Here a rover could dine on t'krai of Callisto, or haggle over the price of one of Neptune's fire-jewels ... or have his brains beaten out with a genuine Torod mace.
For this was a warrior's city, haven of the wild, blood-lusting raiders who made the asteroid belt their home. Fighting men from half-a-hundred satellites and planetoids and planets, they gathered here by their own choice, drawn together in one vast cutthroat brotherhood of booty. Old names, old fames, were left unmentioned. The hulls of the battered ships that ramped in the vastness of the sprawling port bore no Federation registration symbols.
Now, in the shadowy dusk that characterized this strange, warped world of Ceres, the carrier of High CommissionerreyGundre came limping down.
Jarl Corvett brought the craft in himself.
He waited till the shadows verged on darkness, enough to hide the carrier's insignia; then picked a spot far off from the tower, out where the port bordered on the old native quarter, and let the ship drop down her gravicomps dead like another, blacker shadow.
The carrier rocked in to a silent landing. Rising from the control seat, he strode to the hatch.
But Big Ungo was already there before him—blaster on hip, massive shoulders straining at the fabric of an appropriated Federation tunic. "Jarl, you can't go alone...."
Jarl Corvett smiled thinly. "I've got to, Ungo."
"But there may be trouble...." The Jovian brought up his one hand in an angry gesture.
"I know. That's why you can't go. I need you here on board more than I do with me." Jarl dropped his voice; jerked his head towards the cabin where Ylana lay. "Stay with her, Ungo. We can't afford to lose her."
"The men—"
"Would you chance it? Would you trust that much to them?"
For a moment their eyes clashed. But the questions held their own bleak answers. Muttering, half-sullen, the big Jovian moved aside.
Jarl said: "I'll be back, Ungo." Silently, he dropped out the hatch to the ground and strode towards the dim lights that marked the ancient, scabrous buildings which fringed the port.
But every step was a coal for the dull fire of tension that burned within him. Would he really be back? Would he ever see the carrier again, or Ungo?
Or Ylana....
He wondered.
The native quarter closed in about him, heavy with the stench of age and rotting garbage.Vocornpipes wailed, thin and minor, and strange eyes stared at him, luminous in the descending night. Once he stepped shuddering into the protoplasmic slime of some primitive life-form as it writhed its way across the mud-choked cobbles; once, through a doorway, he glimpsed a snake-woman's sinuous dancing in the light of flaringthes-wood torches.
But he hurried on, still wrapped and trapped in his own dark thoughts.
Again and again, in spite of him, his mind flashed back to Wassreck ...KtarWassreck, tortured genius, who'd come for him at Horla.
Could betrayal find a haven in such a man?
Jarl Corvett cursed aloud. It was beyond the believing.
Yet if it were true....
A chill shook Jarl. Where did loyalty lie, in man or duty?
Especially if that duty were only to a dream, the way of the raider....
He could find no answer. Savagely, he kicked a whimperingbokfrom his path and pushed on through the darkness.
And Sais ... what of her? Would he find her waiting, or vanished? What would she say? How could he tell her?
Tight-jawed, head down, he hurried on the faster.
Then, at last, he was striding out into the Place of the Raiders ... crossing the open court to his own quarters.
He tried the door.
It was locked. Angrily, he beat on it with a heavy fist.
A rustle of sound came from within. The door opened a crack.
Belligerently, Jarl shoved inside.
A hard object gouged his back.
By sheer reflex, he tried to leap aside, to whirl.
But rough hands seized him. A powerful arm jerked back his head, the wrist-bone jammed so hard against his throat that he choked and gasped for breath, his struggles unavailing. Close to his ear, a rough voice rasped, "Give up, you zanat, or I'll break your neck!"
Already the blackness was swimming with sparks and stars. Reeling, Jarl called a halt to battle.
"That's better!" the voice rasped. And then: "All right! We've got him! Let's have some light!"
The inner door opened. A yellow glare flooded the entryway. Staggering, arms locked behind him, Jarl was dragged into the room beyond.
Blinking, he stared into familiar faces ... the cold, hard-bitten faces of the chieftains of the raider fleet—Toran theMalya... the mongrel, Tas Karrel ... Bor Legat of Mercury ... half-a-dozen others.
And there was another with them, not a warrior ... one whose dark, proud, lovely face was pale beneath its color.
Jarl choked, "Sais—! What have they done to you—?"
The woman who wasKtarWassreck's daughter pulled together the torn bodice of her kirtle. A sudden flush replaced her pallor. "Ask them, Jarl." The fine, dark eyes with which she swept the raider chiefs were bitter, scornful.
Jarl stood very still. Cold-eyed, seething, he looked from one captain to another.
He said tightly: "You know this woman. You know she's under my protection. Who among you saw fit to lay hands on her, in my own quarters?" And then, with special, deadly emphasis: "Whodaredto do it?"
But the chieftains' eyes threw back his fury. Their faces stayed hard, bleak, impassive.
"Youstarbos!" Jarl lashed. "Are you afraid to talk? Have you left your tongues on Pluto?"
The chiefs exchanged glances. Then, almost idly, Bor Legat moved forward—Bor Legat of Mercury, Bor Legat the ruthless. His lean body's shell-plates clacked in the stillness like tiny castinets. The basilisk eyes were like diamonds.
"Corvett," he said gently, "we're not afraid. Maybe this will convince you."
One arm appendage whipped up. The splayed, tentacular digits stung Jarl's face like flicking lashes.
Jarl rocked in a red haze of fury. "Bor Legat—"
"I know. You'll kill me." Chill, casual, the Mercurian crossed to the chart table and slouched down on one radial hip. The tentacular digits wrapped around the proton grenade that served as a chart-weight and swung it idly to and fro.
To Jarl, the ticking seconds were like eons. The tension rising in the room was almost a living thing. He waited, not speaking.
At last Bor Legat raised the basilisk eyes to him. "Word travels fast, Corvett. We know you've gotreyGundre's daughter."
Jarl stared. "That's why you're here—?"
The Mercurian shrugged. "What else? And what better place to trap you than your own quarters?"
The other raiders nodded.
"And Sais—?" Jarl queried tightly.
"We needed her, to force your hand."
Jarl shot a quick glance at the woman. She stood as before, straight and proud, one hand to her bodice. Her dark eyes spoke unreadable volumes.
Bor Legat laughed softly. "She wants your help, Corvett. I hope that she'll get it."
Jarl turned on him, voice raw and scalding. "Quit talking in riddles! What is it you're after?"
"You're not that stupid, Corvett." The Mercurian swung the proton grenade a fraction faster. "We want the girl, of course; Gundre's daughter, Ylana."
"Why?"
"To drive a bargain." The faintest hint of urgency crept into Legat's tone. "We know why you stole her. You're out to save Wassreck."
"And you—?" Jarl put scorn into his voice.
"Death comes to all raiders. Why should a traitor's tale be different?" The Mercurian lowered the grenade and leaned forward. "You can have it straight, Corvett:reyGundre's made us an offer. If we give him you and Ylana, he'll spare Ceresta."
"And you believe him—?" Jarl laughed harshly. "No wonder you came here! You're mad as aban, Legat! How long do you think he'd hold to his promise?"
"Long enough," the Mercurian clipped curtly. He sat back once more. Again, idly, he swung the grenade like a deadly oval pendulum.
Jarl said: "Maybe there are some things you don't know—about Wassreck; about his new projector—"
"Yes; we've heard about it." A veil of craft and malice drew over the basilisk eyes. "You see, we've got it, too, Corvett."
Jarl started. "You've got it—?"
"You heard me." Bor Legat's smile grew to a ghoulish grin, leering and macabre. "Sais gave it to us."
"Sais—!" Jarl swung sharply.
The woman's ripe lips quivered. Once more her color deepened. "Yes, Jarl. I knew the secret. I gave it to them."
For a long, taut moment, Jarl studied her. But as before, the dark eyes were unfathomable.
He turned back to Bor Legat. "So what are your plans?"
"You can guess them, can't you?" the Mercurian chuckled. "All we need is time. You'll buy that for us—you, and the girl, Ylana. Then, when the Federation fleet strikes through the Belt to blast us, we'll have a surprise of our own all ready and waiting for them."
"I see." Jarl nodded slowly, but his mind was racing. Then, pouring savage scorn into his voice, he lashed out at the raiders: "Are you utter fools, youchitzas? Do you ratereyGundre as a moonstruck idiot?" He laughed, harsh and curt. "He'll strike, all right; but not the way you expect, nor by the path you hope for! He'll know from the start that you plan to trap him! His ships will break through before you have the chance to trap them—"
He slashed on, in that vein; and as he talked he could see doubt flare in the chieftains' eyes. Tas Karrel's glance wavered. Toran theMalyafrowned and shifted.
But Bor Legat the ruthless did not shift or waver.
"We'll chance that," he clipped; and in spite of their doubts, the others nodded.
Jarl's jaw set hard. "Play it that way, then, if you can." He jerked free of the hands that held him; hooked his thumbs in his belt in a gesture of cold defiance. "Ifyou can...."
Bor Legat's arm came down. The proton bomb swung loose at his side as he leaned forward. "If—?" he queried, too gently.
Jarl said: "You need two prisoners to keep your traitor bargain. You've only got one."
"You mean, you won't give up the girl." The Mercurian was almost purring. "We counted on your being stubborn, Corvett. That's why we held your lovely Sais a prisoner. With her to help, I think we can convince you."
With an effort, Jarl held his face immobile. He did not speak.
Bor Legat said: "Torture means little to a man like you, Jarl Corvett. I doubt that it would break you. But if you knew your silence would doom this woman...."
Sais cried: "No, Jarl—!" Before they could stop her, she was running to him. She threw her arms around him. "Jarl, they're mad with fear of my father's weapon! If you givereyGundre's daughter to them, they will gamble the fate of the outlaw worlds on their bargain with him—!"
For a moment Jarl held her to him. Her warmth, the softness of her body, brought new strain, new tension. The fragrance of her dark hair stabbed like a knife-blade.
Slouched on the chart table, Bor Legat smiled and swung the proton grenade. "Well, Corvett?"
Again Jarl looked from one raider to another. But their hard faces showed no trace of mercy, no hint of indecision.
Bleakly, he turned back to Bor Legat.
The Mercurian set the proton bomb down on the table with a thud. A grim finality was in the gesture.
"We've got three Earth days, Corvett," he said in a flat, hard voice. "Three days to turn you over toreyGundre." And then: "It could seem three thousand years to your lovely Sais, if you stay stubborn."
Once more, the seconds dragged like eons. Again Jarl looked to the raider chiefs, the burly crewmen.
A thought moiled in the far reaches of his brain:If I could only snatch a weapon....
But even as it came, it died again. What good could any weapon do against so many? Even if he killed Bor Legat, there'd be the others.
The Mercurian said: "We're wasting time, Corvett. Give us Ylana—or we'll get to work on your own woman."
Sais choked, "Jarl, stand firm—! Let them have me; it doesn't matter...."
Her voice broke. Jarl held her tighter. Bitterly, he thought of Wassreck, her father, and of Horla.
What was loyalty now, when it made a man try to choose between Sais and the thin-drawn chance that he might somehow save Ceresta?
Of a sudden he felt as if he were being pulled apart by the conflicting claims of love and loyalty, torn asunder under the impact of a dozen different kinds of duty.
The proton bomb on the table would rend a man less.
The proton bomb....
Bor Legat straightened. He snapped to the crewmen, "Take the woman!"
Never had the basilisk eyes held more deadly malice.
"Jarl ..." whispered Sais. But her voice held only proud farewell; no tears nor fears, no piteous entreaty.
A raider gripped her shoulder.
Jarl said, "Wait...."
He spoke to Bor Legat, but his eyes were on the grenade that stood beside the Mercurian on the table. A tremor of chill fascination touched him as he stared at the safety pin, the firing lever.
"A change of heart—?" Legat smiled his ghoulish smile. "For a moment, there, I thought you'd let us have the woman."
"No, Bor," Jarl Corvett said tightly, and in that moment a raider's own wild recklessness was singing in him. "I've other plans for Sais and you. If they work, she'll live, and so will I—and you, you scum, there'll come a day when you'll have your chance to die by inches!"
"What—?" Bor Legat came erect, as if he could not believe the words he heard.
Sais' eyes went wide. She tried to push back from Jarl.
A raider crewman reached for his arm.
"You heard me right," Jarl Corvett said. He let his shoulders slump and made as if to turn away. Of a sudden his muscles were tense to aching.
The crewman stretched to clutch him.
But Jarl moved faster. Catching Sais about the waist, he flung her bodily against the raider. Then, whirling, he lunged for the proton bomb on the table.
Bor Legat snatched for his pistol.
But Jarl smashed an elbow into his middle.
The Mercurian retched and reeled. Before he could recover, Jarl drove past him—clawing the grenade up from the table, jerking out the pin.
"Corvett, no—!" shrieked a raider. Another whipped up a ray-gun.
Jarl spun about. His hand ached with the strain of holding down the spring of the bomb's curved firing lever.
But fierce exhilaration surged within him. With a shout he swung the grenade high above his head, where all could see. "Look,chitzas!"
One and all, they froze in their tracks, eyes suddenly aglisten with the glassy sheen of fear. Even Sais' dark, lovely face was all at once a mirror of panic.
"Shoot, curse you!" Jarl cried, and his voice rang with fierce triumph, with exultation. "Shoot and be damned! Because if I die, I'll take you with me!"
Bor Legat choked, "Corvett—!"
Jarl whirled upon him. "Yes, youstarbo! Take me! But remember—if I let go this firing lever, the spring completes the contact for me!"
"No—!" croaked Legat, and his shell-like body plates were clacking. "No, Corvett! That thing would blast us all to atoms!"
Jarl said, "That's better." Coolly, he lowered the bomb and held it cradled between his hands. "Sais...."
"Yes, Jarl...." Quickly, supplely, she moved forward.
"We're leaving now," Jarl clipped. And then, to the chieftains: "If you want to live, don't try to follow."
Hate hammered at him, a living thing—the hate of the wolf-pack that sees its prey escaping. Fists clenched, and gun-hands quivered, and eyes drew to murderous, icy diamonds.
Jarl laughed aloud—scornful, contemptuous. The woman at his side, looking neither to right nor left, he strode to and through the door; closed it behind him.
Sais' taut whisper cut through the darkness: "Jarl, they'll come after us! They'll shoot at a distance—"
Wordless, heart racing, he pushed her forward faster. She stumbled across the final threshold, out into the night and the Place of the Raiders.
Jarl threw a quick glance back. Already, behind them, the door to the inner room was opening.
Cursing, he lobbed the proton grenade back over his shoulder; then bolted after Sais.
The night exploded into crashing chaos. A wall of force smashed Jarl to the cobbles. Screams and shrieks slashed through dust and smoke and falling debris.
But he was outside, the wall between him and the blast. Scrambling to his feet, he dragged Sais up.
Together, they raced for the blackness of the native quarter....
CHAPTER VI
They ran through the murk of Ceres' night till their lungs caught fire, and their eyes rolled up, and their quaking legs could no longer hold them.
Then, at last, sobbing and panting, they fell in a heap in a rubble-strewn alley, heedless of time or place or peril.
But that passed, too. Slowly, the pain and weariness ebbed. Jarl's strength flowed back. Once more, he was acutely conscious of the filth, the smells, the slithering vermin. Somewhere afar, thevocornpipes still were wailing.
Sais twisted against him, her ripe body smooth as rippling velvet. When he rested his palm on her hip, she gripped it fiercely in the darkness. Her hand was hot; he could feel the movement of her quickened breathing.
The muscles in Jarl's belly drew tight. All at once—even here, even now—he could think of nothing save this woman. His fingers trembled as he smoothed her dark hair; touched her eyes, her lips.
She moved closer, till the curve of her cheek lay against his shoulder. The pressure of her body was a silent pledge, an invitation.
Sais.... She was all passion, all woman.
And all his.
Or was she?
The question came without his bidding. In spite of it. Yet once it had come, it would not go away.
He shifted. But it did no good. The spell of her was upon him, melded of her woman's flesh and fragrance.
She pressed closer.
Rigid, he fought a silent battle ... and prayed that he would lose it.
Why did he hang back? How could he doubt her?
But in his heart he knew the answer to all his questions.
This woman whose touch made his heart beat faster was more than merely woman. She was Sais herself,KtarWassreck's daughter.
Once, that had been a bond between them.
Now it rose like a cold stone wall, setting them apart. Because now, in spite of himself, in spite of loyalty or duty, he doubted Wassreck....
APervod'sdrunken laugh drifted to Jarl, dull and muffled. The faint, alluring scent ofmafrakreached his nostrils.
Sais' fingers brushed his throat.
He could stand the strain no longer. Twisting, he pushed her back. "Sais...." Even in a whisper, his voice was raw and rasping.
He could feel her body stiffen. "Yes, Jarl...?"
How could he say it? What words could he find?
He blurted: "They said on Vesta that your father had ... surrendered."
For an instant her shoulders stayed tight and straining. Then, incredibly, the tension left them.
"Yes, Jarl." Her voice was the barest murmur. "They told it true. He sent a secret message toreyGundre...."
A numbness crept through Jarl Corvett. He could hear his own heart pounding in the stillness. "But why, Sais? Why? How could he do it—?"
And her whisper came back: "You mean—you thought he had betrayed you?"
The hurt in her voice twisted at Jarl Corvett. But he threw it off; forced himself to press her further: "You ask—when for his own gain he left you here, to die with the rest of us on Ceres?"
He felt her body quiver, and it was like a knife-stab in his belly.
But when she spoke, scorn edged her words: "You'd believe that, after Horla?"
"What can I believe—?" He broke off; lashed out: "If he didn't, tell me! Why did he go? Why did he use you to bait me into a trap that almost snared me?"
A new tremor ran through Sais' smooth, perfect body. Of a sudden she reached out and once more gripped his clenched fist in the darkness. "Jarl, believe me...."
"Believe you—?"
"The trap was my fault, not his. He sent me a message that came too late. You'd gone before I found it...." She choked. "Now I must tell you all—"
"All—?"
"Yes, no matter what I promised." Sais broke off, still trembling; then hurried on. "The projector ... it was a gamble...."
Again she fumbled, halted. Jarl waited in taut silence.
She said: "It draws its power from cosmic dust."
"I know."
"But that was only half my father's secret!" Sais' voice took on a new raw edge. "Did you ever ask yourself how my father learned to utilize that power, Jarl Corvett? Did you ever wonder why it was he who mastered its principle, after the finest scientists of every planet had striven for a thousand years and failed?"
Jarl frowned in the darkness. "You mean—?"
"I mean that it was not he who solved the problem!" Sais' nails bit into his hand. Her voice lost its edge in an eager rush of words. "Jarl, the secret came from another race—from a people who voyaged across the void ... perhaps from even beyond the stars! Eons ago, they lived and died. But one of their ships had crashed on Vesta. That was why my father built his workshop there—so that he could better study what little they'd left behind them. There was a book with metal pages; he found it deep in the buried wreckage. From it, he worked out the plans for this new projector."
It made Jarl's breath quicken, that picture—the picture of Wassreck, twisted genius, digging through dead ruins in spite of a torture, pain-racked body. The endless hours, the weary years, the lightning mind and infinite patience—all were part of an old, familiar pattern.
Wassreck's pattern.
But it still was not enough to still the doubts that plagued him. With an effort, he held his voice flat and clipped, emotionless. "So ... he gave this master secret toreyGundre....
"He doomed the outlaw worlds. He left us to die here, at Ceresta."
"No! He did not!" Bitter vehemence rang in her denial. "You fool, the projector itself was nothing! He had to break through the Federation fleet's blockade in order to reach Venus' orbit, and then Womar—"
"Womar—!" Jarl went rigid. He strained his eyes to see the woman in the darkness.
"Yes, Womar, the satellite that hides behind the mother planet!" Sais writhed upright. Again her words came fast and eager. "There was another ship, Jarl Corvett—another craft built by that same ancient master race somewhere across the void! If my father can find it, it will mean the end of the Federation! It will buy the outlaw worlds their freedom!"
"But Womar..." Choking, Jarl came up beside her. His thin-stretched mask of bleakness fell away. "Sais, it's madness!"
"Because of the primitives, you mean? Because of the Federation ban, the deserts—?" Sais laughed aloud, and there was scorn and fury in it. "Yes, Jarl Corvett, it's utter madness! That's why my father went in secret, leaving you behind to call him traitor! He wanted no other to die with him on such a hopeless quest. So he sent his message toreyGundre, wagered his own life on the one slim, desperate chance that he could bring destruction to the Federation!"
The fears, the doubts ... they all were dying. And as they died, a gnawing sickness grew in Jarl Corvett. Of a sudden he was himself traitor, betrayer, for his very doubting.
"But why—?" he whispered. "Why did he go, Sais? What secret could be greater than the one he gave to Gundre?"
Sais laughed again, more softly. Once more, she came close to him, as if unwilling, even here, to speak of this thing above a breathless murmur. "The robots, Jarl; the robots!"
He stared. "The robots—?"
"Yes!" Now her voice shook with excitement. "Jarl, they were no idle fancy, no toys brought to being out of an old man's dreams. They were models of warriors—the great, inanimate metal warriors of that alien race from beyond the stars. He built them from plans in the books he found in the wrecked ship."
For Jarl, it was as if a curtain had suddenly been pulled aside. His mind flashed back to Vesta, to Wassreck's workshop ... back to the great hall's echoing vastness, and the towering metal monsters that, shoulder to shoulder, lined its walls.
Sais still was speaking: "He knew that the outlaw worlds were doomed, Jarl. The Federation was too strong. The projector—it was only another weapon. For victory, the raider fleet needed something more."
Jarl did not speak.
She said: "The metal warriors were to be that 'something more'. Not models, such as he constructed, but giants, monsters—huge creatures, indestructible, so mighty that they could break space-ships in their hands." The woman's voice rose; took on a richer timbre. "Think of it, Jarl Corvett! Think of an army of those awful warriors, each alone strong enough to desolate a planet! What would power like that mean to the outlaw worlds—?"
She broke off, shaking. With an oath, Jarl pulled her to him; held her.
"But he failed, Jarl...." Sais' words came dull and muffled. "He could not give them life."
"You mean—?"
"The control was a mystery he could not master. The books told nothing of its workings."
"So now he would go to Womar...."
"Yes. There was a chance, he thought, that he might find the secret there, where the other alien ship had fallen. He had a theory that the primitives themselves were decadent descendants of the master race."
"But Womar...." Jarl's voice trailed off. He thought of the tales he'd heard, the things he'd seen. Of Venus' hidden satellite and its deserts. Of the Federation ban that made it death to land there. Of the beings behind that ban, the primitives, still unconquered, with their savagery and lust for blood and darkly rumored rites.
Tremulous, close to him, Sais whispered, "He gambled his life, Jarl Corvett. In secret, in order that he would not risk yours nor mine."
In the distance, Jarl still could hear the wailingvocornpipes; the shouts, the shrieks, the drunken laughter. Athes-wood torch was a flaring pin-point in the blackness. He rolled the acrid taste of Rogek gas about his tongue ... drank in theMah'ham'sstench.
Yes, this was Ceres, a Cerestan night, and he was here, with the warmth and softness of dark Sais pressed against him.
Yet another part of him was far away ... far, far away in time and space and circumstance, armoring his quivering belly in a surface plate of boldness as he strode out on Horla to face the agony of the flame-death.
And there was Wassreck, too,KtarWassreck, with his burning eyes and pain-racked body, blasting down through the holocaust to save him.
Loyalty ... it was such a feeble, tenuous thing.
Yet the bonds it forged were stronger than telonium or steel.
Again he cursed, and pushed Sais back. Catching her hand, he turned and led her, stumbling, through the darkness.
"Jarl...."
He clipped: "We're going to the space-port,reyGundre's carrier waits for us there."
"And then—?"
"We blast for Womar."
"Jarl—!"
He strode on faster—hurrying, giving her no answer. There were too many things to say ... too many words he could not utter.
They left the alley for another, broader. Adaubrushed past them in the murk. Two bulbous Thorians parted, moving out of their way. Curious, glowing eyes ofllorinwatched them from an entryway.
Then, around another turn, the buildings thinned. The odor of Rogek gas and rocket fuel grew stronger.
And, ahead, a shadowy group moved from one looming bulk of structure to another.
Jarl jerked Sais back into the blackness that rimmed a cone-likePervoddwelling.
"Jarl—"
He clapped a hand across Sais' mouth. "Quiet! Bor Legat's men may still be here before us!"
Jarl felt a tremor run through her. Ghost-silent, he led the way along the building; then, after a moment's pause, ran on swiftly to an ancientFantaystructure.
The shadow-group ahead was breaking up spreading out in a thin black line of menace.
Tight-nerved, Jarl drew Sais to the right, parallel to the skirmish line, along the crumblingFantayspire ... then on through the burrow-like workings of spider men of Rhea, past flat-roofed habitat of thellorin.
They came out into another alley.
But ahead, here, too, he caught a glimpse of motion, the hint of a far-flung raider cordon.
They tried again, by another alley—the one down which Jarl had come when he left the carrier. He almost imagined he could make out the ship's slim silver form far off in the vastness of the port, in spite of the obscuring night.
But again, between them and the sprawling ramping-place, stood sinister figures.
Jarl rested his shoulders against the wall of a ramblingfalahostel. He felt old beyond belief; incredibly weary. His muscles ached with tension.
Sais touched his arm. "Jarl...." Her voice was a ragged whisper.
He sucked in air. "Wait here a moment."
Once more, in dead silence, he moved forward, skirting the pool of greenish glow that marked the hostel's entry. Cat-footed, taut, he made his way along the wall towards the port, the shadow-figures.
Only then, without warning, a spear of light lanced through the darkness. An energy-bolt splintered stone bare inches from his shoulder.
He dived back by instinct; landed running.
In the same instant a cry went up—the wild hunting-cry of Bor Legat's raiders.
Jarl caught Sais' hand and dashed for the corner of the building.
From behind them came a pelting rush of feet, a babble of fierce, life-thirsting voices. The night blazed with the fire of raider weapons.
Barely in time, they made the corner. Panting, they lunged on into the maze of alleys.
But then, ahead of them, rose other voices. New figures loomed; new weapons flamed and echoed.
Jarl catapulted Sais into an entryway. Savagely, he kicked at the door's lock.
The door burst open. Beyond lay the blackness of an ebon sack, thick enough to cut. The air that puffed out was stale and dead, heavy with a musty smell of age, abandonment, disintegration.
Jarl pushed inside and heeled the door shut. The clamor of the alley faded.
Breathing hard he groped through the room. Thick dust scuffed up beneath his feet. Sais clung to his hand, fingers slick with icy sweat. "Which way—?" She was half-sobbing.
"Up!" Jarl clenched his teeth. "There's got to be a stair, a ladder!"
They felt their way through another room. Another, and another.
Then: "Jarl—! I've found it!"
Jarl wheeled, moving to her. He touched the edge of worn stone steps. "Come on!"
They climbed through the murk, and Jarl thought ofquirstsandhwins—a thousand deadly, crawling, nameless horrors. But there was no other way, no faintest chance. Tight-jawed, he shoved his thoughts back and stumbled higher.
Three levels they climbed. Then the stone steps ended. Numb, rigid, Jarl felt his way to an outer room.
Stars shone faintly through a window. Sais still at his heels, he crossed to the casement and looked out.
Far below, the shouts and curses of Bor Legat's men still echoed.
But Jarl paid them no heed. He had eyes only for the flat-toppedllorindwelling that crowded next to this structure in which he had found temporary haven.
Thellorin-pile's roof rose to within short feet of the window. Beyond it lay another; then aFantayspire....
Again he said, "Come on!" and levered open the window.
New agitation gleamed in Sais' eyes, but she moved forward, wordless.
Cat-like, Jarl dropped to thellorinroof. After a moment's hesitation, Sais followed.
Silent, nerves raw with tension, they picked a path along the beams to the next building and crossed to it.
Here even the beams were rotten, sagging. Testing with his foot at each step, Jarl led the way around the outer wall to the spire beyond.
Even at its lowest point, the edge of theFantaypeak was feet above Jarl's head, across a yawning two-foot gap that plunged chasm-like to the ground so far below.
Bleakly, Jarl studied it; measured the distance with his eye. "Up, Sais...." He lifted her; tottered precariously against the rim of coping while, whole body atremble, she balanced on his broad shoulders.
She whispered, "Jarl, I'll never make it...." Her words died in a quavering sound of pure hysteria.
A trickle of sweat dripped from Jarl's chin. He dug his fingers into her ankles till her blood spurted and ran down his nails. "You'll make it...."
"No, Jarl—! No! I can't—!"
The sweat dripped faster. Jarl could feel Sais' terror. It crawled in her voice and breath and body, quaked and quivered in the very air.
But behind there was only the tender mercy of Bor Legat's raiders.
Ahead, at least they had a faint, slim chance to reach the carrier.
The carrier ... so near, and yet so far.
Through clenched teeth, he said, "You'll make it—or I'll drop you down the crack!"
He tilted her forward.
For an instant she hung there. He could hear a scream rising in her throat.
Jarl Corvett died a thousand deaths.
Then out she swung, high over the chasm. Instinctively, her hands shot out ... caught theFantayspire's low-dipping edge ... clung there....
He said tightly: "Pull yourself up! I'll help you!" Bracing himself, straining every muscle, he lifted her higher ... higher ... till her feet were at arm's length above his head.
Panting, crying, she pulled herself half onto the spire.
He let go her feet.
She gasped in new panic. But her grip held firm. Twisting, spasmodically, she swung her feet up and lay there, sobbing.
Jarl's muscles went weak as water.
But he did not dare to hesitate. Stiffly, he swung onto the knee-high coping; crouched there.
The chasm below drew his eyes like a magnet. He tore them away; forced himself to look up, instead, to the spire. Sucking in air, he poised himself, tensing.
Sais stared down at him. Something close akin to horror was in her eyes.
With all his might, Jarl leaped upward, outward, straining to reach the other wall.
One hand touched—and slipped.
The other hooked round the edge of the stone ledge above.
Sais clutched his free hand and tried to lift him. With a desperate effort, he twisted and lunged again, hanging there in space.
This time he got a grip on the ledge's inner edge. Sais tugged at his tunic's collar. Gasping for breath, he levered himself higher, up onto his elbows. A final surge carried him out of the chasm.
Sais sank down beside him. For a long moment they lay there—both panting, both shaking.
But there was no time for weakness. Lurching to his feet, Jarl began working his way around the rim.
They moved on to new buildings—one, two, half-a-dozen ... always striving in the direction of the port.
Then, at last, they reached a final, ramshackle structure only one level high.
Beyond it, the ramping-place stretched off through the flare-sparked blackness of the night.
Jarl peered down into the flanking alleys. But this time he could find no shadow-cordon, no trace of Legat's raiders.
Sais brushed against him. Once more, he caught the half-forgotten fragrance of her hair.
He pressed her hand. "It looks good, Sais. Legat never thought about the roofs. His men are farther back in the quarter."
"Then—?"
"We'll chance it."
Her lips touched his cheek. It was her only answer.
Together, hand in hand, they slipped down a rickety outside ramp to the ground. In silence, they made their way across the sprawling port's scorched cinders.
As they walked, Jarl felt the surface tension leave him. The heavy, mixed smells of Rogek gas and rocket fuel were perfume in his nostrils. His job was done, here at Ceresta. He'd rescued Sais and learned the truth aboutKtarWassreck.
Now, he could almost laugh when he thought of Legat.
But underneath, a stronger conflict plagued him. Because, again, it was his destiny to go forth to battle ... to lead good men, good friends, to die for the cause of the raider worlds, and loyalty.
Frowning, he thought of Wassreck and of Womar ... the giant robots. Of Ungo and Ylana.
As for himself, how long could his luck hold? When, at long last, would fate decide to down him?
Shrugging, he veered his course in the direction of a massive marker pylon. What did it matter, when he fell? As Legat had said, death came to all raiders.
For now, it was enough that he should carve his way and do his duty.
Beside him, Sais asked, "How far is it, Jarl? I—I'm so tired."
"Only a little way. Just beyond the pylon." He put his arm about her.
"I'm glad...." She leaned upon him.
Jarl veered again. They rounded the corner of the marker.
"Where is it, Jarl?" Sais asked in a weary voice. And then: "Jarl! What's the matter?"
But Jarl hardly heard her. He stood stock-still, staring—unable to move, unable to speak.
"Jarl—!"
He jerked free of the spell of shock; peered this way and that in a frenzy of desperation. Once again, his heart was pounding.
But the cindered ramping-place stayed bare and echoing and empty.
Carrier and crew alike had vanished!
CHAPTER VII
Jarl picked Tas Karrel's ship, theKnife. Unswerving, Sais at his side, he stalked up her ramp.
A grim, slim, deadly craft, theKnife, black as the heart of her mutant master. The fastest ship in all the raider fleet, with a killer crew drawn from the scum of the whole wide solar system.
The guard at the hatch was such a one—an Earthman, long fled from his own home planet. Slouched at his post below the scarlet signal light, thumb hooked in belt, he stared bleakly off across Ceresta's port and puffed at achangcigarette of Venus.
Jarl's footsteps echoed. The guard swung round.
The next instant he was whipping up his blaster. The cigarette fell from his lips, forgotten. "Jarl Corvett—!"
Jarl laughed, a cold and mirthless laugh, and raised his empty hands. "Put your blaster down. I've come to see Tas Karrel."
"He's not aboard." The Earthman's blaster did not waver.
"I know it. I'll wait."
The guard's brow furrowed. For a moment he stood hesitating, wordless.
Heedless of the menace in the cold blue eyes, Jarl brushed on past him. Chill arrogance in his stance, he strode down the echoing corridor to the crewmen's day-room.
A knot of lounging raiders looked up as he entered, then snatched for weapons. Again his name rang: "Jarl Corvett—!" "It's Corvett!"
And again Jarl laughed his reckless laugh. "That's right. It's Corvett."
APervodpushed forward. Jarl recognized him as one of Tas Karrel's chief lieutenants.
The creature's chill reptilian eyes flicked from Jarl to Sais, then on to the Earthman guard who had followed them in. "What brings these two here? Where did they come from?"
"How should I know?" the Earthman shrugged. "They say they want Karrel—and I know he wants them."
"Yes. They find it easier to come than to leave us." ThePervodlaughed harshly and swung back to Jarl. "You, Corvett! We know you! What do you want here?"
Bleakly, Jarl met the reptilian's glare. Feet wide apart, hands on hips, he stood straight and steady, surveying the crewmen who crowded around him.
"I want you!" he slashed harshly.
"Me—?" He could see the leanPervodstiffen.
Jarl let his voice ring. "Yes, you—and all of these others. TheKnife, too...."
He grinned as he said it, and looked from one hard-bitten face to another—measuring each raider, timing his pause to their grim, deadly potential. He knew them so well, these outlaw crewmen.ChonyaandMalya;Pervodand Earthman;dau,fala,Fantay—they were one with him. When his eyes met theirs, it was almost as if he could see their restless minds working.
A silence built up in the echoing day-room. Before it could break, he spoke again to them:
"I need a ship!" he said boldly. "A fighting ship, fast enough to break through the Federation's own cordon. And"—he paused—"that ship must have a crew that fears neither man nor devil."
The silence echoed louder.
He said: "TheKnifeis the fastest ship in the raider fleet—and a crew that will raid with Tas Karrel would spit inreyGundre's own eye!"
Still, for a moment, the silence hung upon them. Then, slowly at first, but rising, a ripple of wry, bleak laughter ran through the crowd.
He knew that he had them, then. He leaned forward ... let his voice drop to a confidential note. "What does a raider want most, my comrades? Loot?Kabat?Women—?"
He grinned again, as he said 'women', and lifted a hand to dark Sais' velvet shoulder.
She twisted. The laughter rippled louder.
Jarl planted his foot on a chair; rested elbow on knee. "Yes, we all want them, my comrades. But"—he dropped his voice still lower—"so do other men."
The raiders crowded closer, craning and straining to hear him.
"Then where's the difference, between us and those others—?" Abruptly, he straightened and brought up his fist. He threw his words at them, in a fierce, ringing challenge: "The difference—? I'll tell you, comrades! It's not loot that we raid for, norkabat, nor women; not really! It's freedom we are after—the freedom to roam the void as free men should, and to hell with the thrice-cursed tyrants of the Federation!"
Now the crewmen, too, shouted, in wild exultation. The din echoed and deafened.
"Are you with me—?" Jarl roared.
But thePervodleaped forward. "You dogs! What of Karrel?"
The shouting died down. Again all eyes came to Jarl Corvett.
He held the smile on his face. "Yes. What of Tas Karrel?"
ThePervod'sclaws crept towards his gun-butt. The bony wings whispered in the sudden stillness.
Very softly, Jarl said, "There's the law of the raiders. A chieftain must meet any man who dares challenge." And then: "You,Pervod! Will you fight hand-to-hand for Tas Karrel?"
The reptilian's eyes glinted. His claws touched the ray-gun.
Scorn rang in Jarl's laugh. "I said hand-to-hand, by the law of the raiders! I came here unarmed, to fight Karrel to the death for his chiefship!"
A low mutter rose from the crewmen. ThePervod'seyes wavered.
Jarl said: "Know my pledge, comrades! Not booty, but freedom! If you blast with me, we may all die on Womar. If that doesn't suit you, kill me now, before I meet Karrel!"
ThePervodlieutenant's eyes sought out the crewmen. They shifted, not speaking.
Jarl laughed without mirth. "You see,chitza—? They want blood—mine, or Tas Karrel's!"
The reptilian looked away—past Jarl, to the doorway. His claws were atremble.
Then, visibly, he stiffened.
Jarl spun around.
Tas Karrel himself stood framed in the entry. His tiny, round, lidless eyes flamed green murder. "Youstarbo—!"
Tas Karrel, the mutant. Broad, tall, heavy-bodied. Hairy as adau, and with adau'sbulging muscles. But his face was the blank, hairless face of theFantay... without nose, without cheekbones.
"Welcome, Karrel!" Jarl laughed again, loud and reckless. "I'm claiming theKnifeand your chiefship, by the law of the raiders!"
"A fight to the death—?" The other's lipless gash-mouth twisted awry. The green eyes were smouldering. "A pleasure, Jarl Corvett!"
The huge mutant stripped off his tunic, his gun-belt.
HisPervodlieutenant cried, "Raiders! A death-ring!"
The crewmen fell back, and linked arms, formed a circle.
Knee-long arms swaying, their chief shambled forward.
Jarl pushed Sais back. The circle parted to pass her.
Karrel's mouth worked. "Jarl Corvett...."
"Yes."
"If you die, I claim the woman!"
Jarl's heart pounded. "If I die, you can have her!" He did not dare look at Sais.
The mutant moved into the circle. His prehensile fingers flexed and worked. His blank, grey-white face was a bleak mask of menace, the more fearsome for its very lack of expression.
Slowly, they moved around, ever facing—each searching for an opening, seeking some hint of weakness. The tension climbed higher, in a throbbing crescendo.
Jarl could feel the sweat come to his palms. His pulses hammered.
Then, suddenly, arms flailing, Tas Karrel sprang forward.
Jarl leaped back; jarred against thePervodlieutenant.
Karrel lunged again. Again, Jarl tried to leap aside.
But a clawedPervodfoot hooked out and tripped him. He sprawled on the floor.
In a flash, Tas Karrel was upon him. A bulgingdauarm bore down on his windpipe.
Writhing, Jarl tried to tear free. But the arm would not let him. The prehensile fingers gouged at his eye-balls.
He twisted; rocked back. Bit down on a finger.
Karrel jerked. Jarl bit harder. Lunging, he bucked the mutant forward ... hooked a hammering heel up and around, into the blankFantayface.
It was Karrel's turn to rock back. The hairy arm lifted.
Jarl brought his chin forward, sucking air in great, choking gulps. He drove a savage blow home below the other's rib-casing.
Karrel tottered. Jarl broke clear; staggered upright.
The mutant threw himself round; started to lunge up.
Jarl kicked him in the face with all his might.
Karrel's head snapped back. His hand clutched for Jarl's ankle.
Savagely, Jarl stomped down on the fingers. He smashed rights and lefts to the grey-white mask face. A cut opened. Grey-green ooze spurted.
Jarl kicked for the belly.
An incoherent cry burst from the gash-mouth. The mutant threw himself over, tumbling towards the edge of the circle.
A hoarse murmur rose from the crewmen. Wolf-like, arms still linked, they hunched forward.
Jarl's arms dragged like anchors. His ears rang; his lungs burned. Dimly, he glimpsed Sais' panic-straught face at the edge of the circle. The sour stink of his own sweat rolled up in his nostrils.
But he dared not hold back. If Karrel rose, he was finished.
He dived in for the kill.
But the mutant was twisting. His feet smashed at Jarl's breast-bone.
Jarl crashed back, clear to the other side of the circle.
Tas Karrel surged upright. "A knife—!" he roared harshly.
ThePervodflipped him a dagger. Swaying, he caught it ... lunged for Jarl.
It was over. Jarl knew it. There was nothing he could do now.
Nothing but die.
The frenzy of death alone brought him to his feet. He hurled himself at the mutant.
Tas Karrel swayed aside, green eyes burning. Jarl hurtled past him; landed sobbing against thePervod.
The reptilian laughed shrilly. Letting go of the arms of the raiders who flanked him, he caught Jarl ... shoved him back at Tas Karrel.
Blindly, Jarl clutched thePervod'sbelt. His weight carried them both to the circle's center.
Cursing, Karrel slashed for him.
Jarl wrenched to one side. The knife laid open thePervod'sside.
The reptilian screamed. His bony vestigial wings flailed.
In the same instant, Jarl caught Karrel's knife-hand. With his last ounce of strength, he wrenched it till the bones cracked.
The knife fell.
Jarl scooped it up. ThePervodscrambled from his path.
Tas Karrel stumbled backward. Fear flared in the green eyes.
Teeth bared now, Jarl followed.
The mutant sagged. Then, with a wild cry, hairy body shaking, he whirled and threw himself over the linked arms of his crewmen, out of the circle. In a mad dash, he lunged for the exit.
"No—!" A raider whipped up his blaster. "Death to you, coward!"
He fired. Tas Karrel sprawled on his face in the doorway.
The circle broke into chaos.
Jarl spun about, seeking thePervod.
The reptilian was backing away, slinking towards another door.
"Youchitza—!"
ThePervodstopped short.
"Take your knife with you!" Jarl shouted. He drew back the blade.
Face contorted, the Venusian clawed for his ray-gun.
Like lightning, Jarl hurled the dagger. It sank to the hilt in thePervod'sthroat. Threshing in his death-throes, the creature spilled forward.
Jarl gripped a stanchion. "To your stations!" he shouted. "We're blasting for Womar!"
Order came from the chaos. Sub-chiefs bellowed commands. Crewmen boiled out of the doorways.
Sais ran to Jarl's side. Her white cheeks were tear-smudged, but she smiled through her tears.
There was a ringing of bells, a clanging of hatches. Afalacried, "All's ready!"
"For Womar—!" Jarl echoed.
A muffled roar cut him short. The room rocked with the shock of the takeoff as theKnifeslashed its way up from the port, out from Ceres.
Jarl threw one arm around Sais—more for support than from feeling. It was all he could do to stand upright.
She braced him. "You mean it—? We're going to Womar...?" All at once her voice trembled.