Frowning, Bukal looked down at the speaker. "What nonsense--?" he began. But a man shoved forward and cut in upon him: "No nonsense, Bukal!" he flashed fiercely. "All morning, the amplifiers have been blaring across the barrier. Zenaor says he'll leave us free, safe from the ourobos, in trade for this wench and her alien lover!" More echoing silence. More vibrant tension. Then Bukal snapped, "Enough of this drivel! Zenaor's daughter or not, this girl's cast her lot with us. As for Craig Nesom--" From one side, a rawboned, ape-like discman smashed a blow to the back of Bukal's head. The leader spilled to the ground. Like wolves, the crowd surged forward. Craig drove a fist into the face of the man who'd struck Bukal; lashed a kick to the groin of another, beside him. Then green fire blazed, a blast that seared between him and the Baemae. The crowd stopped short; fell back. Fire-gun in hand, bronzed body glistening, Bukal lurched to his feet. Blood dripped from his earlobe. "You scum, would you buy your lives with treason?" No one moved. No one spoke. "Craig...." The Earthman shifted to his friend's side in one quick movement. "Yes, Bukal." The Baemae chief's eyes stayed on the crowd, his finger tight on the fire-gun's trigger. Face a bleak, expressionless mask, he said, "I see that I can no longer control my people. But at least you need not suffer for it. Take Narla and go!" Wordless, Craig nodded. The girl beside him, he backed to the nearest discs. * * * * * The Baemae fell back before him. He could feel their eyes on his back as he spun the saucers. Their hate surged over him like the magnetic waves on which the discs lifted. Into the air again, rising ... passing over palisades and circling hills, racing away northwest towards the barons' barrier. Where could they go? What would they do? Bleakly, Craig mulled dark thoughts. He was glad that she kept her own counsel, till he saw her brush at her eyes and knew she was crying. Yet what solace could anyone offer her in this nightmare? Now other villages passed below them. Grey folds ringed one, glistening in Yoh's white light as they closed in upon it. Craig closed his ears to the screams of the doomed and sent his disc hurtling faster. Then the black line of the barrier loomed ahead. The blare of amplifiers rose faintly. Craig turned. "Hover here awhile, while I reconnoiter." Mutely, Narla nodded. He sped away. More villages, more djevoda, more grey patches. The amplifiers, bellowing: "Bring in my daughter, Baemae! Bring in my daughter and the alien!" No refuge. Craig circled back. Only now, two discs swayed where one had hung before. And one was sweeping down on the other. On Narla. Craig whipped his own saucer higher, and then higher.