The Earthman straightened. His lips were drawn to thin lines. "This guard-car--how does it come?" "It moves up and down a shaft between the floors: then through the corridors. The Thorian must have rung the alarm as he came--" "Where will it stop? Here, at this door?" "No. It is set for the guard-post, down the corridor to the left--" Shane pivoted. Ignoring the manacles that still held his wrists, he stepped swiftly from the cell. Here, in the corridor, the humming was like that of a swarm of angry bees. Far off to the left, red lights winked in the dimness. Talu caught her breath. "The guard-car!" she cried. Shane broke into a run--left down the corridor, straight towards the oncoming lights. "No! No, _Sha_ Shane--!" "The guard-post--where is it?" "Just ahead. There, to the left--" The post proved to be a mere niche in the wall, a sort of oversized sentry-box with cot and chair and table. "Under the cot!" Shane snapped. "But they will trap us here--kill us--" The red lights were growing ever brighter now. The humming had risen to a low-throated roar. Roughly, Shane forced the _Malya_ down and under the cot, then crawled in beside her himself. "They will trap us!" Talu said again, and the tension in her voice vibrated like a taut-drawn wire. Yet, strangely, her tone held no fear, no panic: only a sort of fierce, throbbing exaltation. "They'll trap us like lambs trap a lion!" Shane slashed back harshly. His blue eyes burned with a reckless fire. "Would you have us play the sheep--stand back there in the cell and be slaughtered? No! We'll meet them here, where they don't expect us. And if we die, some of them will go along." Talu's full lips parted. Her laugh came, low and throaty. "You speak like a _Malya_, _Sha_ Shane! My grandfather would have been proud to have you raiding with him." The guard-car braked to a halt abreast them before Shane could reply. A panel in its metal side slid back. Two Martian _falas_ and a hairy, heavy-thewed Uranian sprang out. * * * * * Shane triggered his light-pistol's exciter. The purple beam slashed through the dimness, straight to the breast of the first Martian. A shrill scream of awful anguish burst from the creature's throat-sac. It leaped high in the air, then fell back again, a nerveless, dying heap. The Uranian and the other _fala_ whirled. Shane lanced out the beam again. It took the top from the second _fala's_ misshapen skull. The Martian was dead before he hit the floor. But now the Uranian had light-pistols in two of his four huge hands. A beam seared through the cot. Another burned a smoking path along the floor. Shane surged to his feet, carrying the cot with him like a massive shield. The muscles of his back and arms and shoulders stood out. With a mighty effort, he swung the cot clear of the floor and hurled it broadside at the Uranian.