"Maybe he had a stomach ache or something that brought that look to his face." "Holy Mother, Mike, if he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him, do you think he'd wait until then to feel painful?" "Maybe it was the poison, Sean, just taking hold?" "No, Mike, he grimaced just when my fist struck that bone. It was the first sign of pain during the whole time. That's got to be it, Mike. Kraks aren't invulnerable. They've just been careful not to let us find out." "Why didn't they kill you then, when you found out?" Sean shrugged the thought away. "Maybe Klash didn't tell them. Maybe it's just luck. I don't know. But I do know this, Mike, it's the first time that a Krak ever departed from that poker face." Mike sat there, pessimism fighting with this new thread of hope. "Okay," he said finally. "I guess we can try it, anyway. Though I don't think much of the idea. But it's a chance. And I sure would like to get Marcia back on earth." "To meet Jane?" Sean asked quietly. Mike looked at him, almost like a boy caught with his hand in the jam jar. It was some hours later, when Sean slapped the sandal against the palm of his hand and muttered: "Sandals aren't much good as weapons, but they'll have to do." He looked at Mike and the other eleven men that the two of them had convinced, in whispers so that the audios would pick up only sounds and not the words of their plan. Mike said: "He's due along here any minute now." Sean nodded and slapped the sandal against the palm of his hand again. * * * * * Afar off at first it was, that curious scraping sound the thighs of Kraks make as they walk. The thirteen men tensed, their palms sweating against the leather soles of the sandals they gripped so tightly. The excitement had deadened the pain of Sean's bruises and he was waiting just as tensely as the others. The other Earth people packed into the huge cell were staring at them, some licking their lips, some with questions fighting through the despair in their eyes--all of them dejectedly looking. The cry was in Sean's mind: Oh, to destroy their despair that they might see once more with eyes of hope! The scrape-scrape came closer. It halted outside the heavy metal door. Smaller bits of metal rattled; then the door opened inward. Sean, being closest to the opening portal, swung his sandal first. It made a curious spatting sound. Forgetful of the wrenching pain, he leaped, wrapped an arm around the Krak's neck and lashed out with the sandal again and again. The Krak reached up one powerful arm, ripped the red-headed Earthman from his perch. The other dozen Earthmen leaped on him then, their sandals flailing. Sean, flung against the wall, tried to move, but his muscles were tar and wouldn't respond. He watched the battle, trying desperately to move.