While Dane watched, two more guards joined the first. Dane crowded close to Nelva. His words came out a raw whisper: "Those guards--are they after me?" She didn't answer. Dane's belly knotted. His hands shook. But he couldn't afford the luxury of cracking. Not now, of all times. No. The only course open now was to follow desperation's dictates. Psychopath? Criminal? Kalquoi agent? If those were his labels, he might as well live up to them! Grimly, he let his hand brush the heavy yat-stick still concealed beneath his tunic; forced his face into the caricature of a grin as he gazed at Nelva. The girl seemed scarcely to be breathing. Dane said softly, "We're getting out of this place. You and me, together. We're going to walk through the entry door at the far end of this room. Understand?" Nelva's eyes distended, wide with sudden panic. Her mouth started to open. Dane caught her wrist in a savage grip; twisted so sharply she came forward on tiptoe, face drawn with pain. "Scream and I'll break your arm!" Only the faintest flicker of Nelva's lids indicated that she'd heard him. But she turned as he did under the pressure on her wrist and moved with him in the direction of the doorway. Behind them, a loud voice cried, "Hey, there!" Dane flung a quick glance back; glimpsed the guards starting towards him. With a curse, he shoved Nelva forward, ahead of him, in a frantic dash for the door. They made it in a rush. Heeling the panel shut in the faces of his pursuers, Dane wheeled right down the corridor. But even as he turned, he came face to face with yet another guard, charging up the hall straight at him. Savagely, Dane flung Nelva aside. Clawing out the yat-stick, he smashed its heavy head to the pit of the man's stomach. The guard bent double. Bowling him out of the way, Dane pivoted, braced for attack or flight alike. Yet to what end? In his heart, he knew it would be the same here as on the spaceship. Sooner or later, his adversaries would hunt him down; trap him.... Then, off to his left, a voice cried, "Clark! This way--!" Nelva's voice. Dane whirled; glimpsed the girl beckoning frantically from an alcove. Sprinting to her, he crowded past a door that she held open, and into a cramped, shadowy chamber beyond. "Now, here...." Nelva's hand caught his, leading him onward. Another door. Another. A room piled high with stored furniture and equipment. Nelva said, "You can hide here for a little while. After that...." Her voice trailed off. She was breathing hard. Dane said, "I'm tired of hiding. It gets me nowhere." The girl's grey eyes widened. "But--what--?" "Which way to your analytical computer?" "Analytical computer--?" Nelva looked bewildered. "What computer? What are you talking about?"