"I know, Don." Abel was no coward; if there had been any way to help, he would have done so. When dealing with the quinquepedalian, loitering was futile and dangerous; the person involved either got away or he did not. The most practical recourse was to trek immediately for the ship, so that at least one person would live to tell the story. "Ship takes off in twelve hours," Abel said, shaking his pack into greater comfort. "If we move right along, we can make it in six hours. Can't be more than twenty miles." "Going to make a full report, Don?" Tinnerman was uneasy, without being certain why. "Fritz was killed," Abel said simply. Tinnerman put out a hand and brought him to a stop. "We can't do it, Don." Abel studied him with concern. "I'll give you a hand, if you got clipped. I thought you were O.K." "I'm all right. Don, we killed that thing's baby. It did what any parent would do. If we report it, the captain will lift ship and fry it with the main jet." "Code of space, Tinny. Anything that attacks a man--" "It didn't attack. It came to the defense of its child. We don't have the right to sentence it." Abel's eyes grew cold. "Fritz was my friend. I thought he was yours too. If I could have killed that monster myself, I'd have done it. You coming along?" "Sorry, Don. I have no quarrel with you. But I can't let you report Quink to the captain." Abel sized him up, then took off his pack. He didn't ask questions. "If that's the way it has to be," he said evenly. * * * * * Don Abel was a slow man, cautious in his language and conservative in action. But he had never been mistaken for a weakling. His fists were like lightning. Tinnerman was knocked back by two blows to the chin and a roundhouse on the ear. He held back, parrying with his forearm; Abel landed a solid punch to the midriff, bringing down his guard, and followed that with a bruising smack directly on the mouth. Tinnerman feinted with his left, but got knocked off his feet with a body check before getting a chance to connect with his right. He rolled over, grasping for the feet, and got lifted by a blinding knee to the chin. His head reeled with a red haze; and still the blows fell, pounding his head and neck, while Abel's foot stunned the large muscle of the thigh, aiming for the groin. Tinnerman's reticence fell aside, and he began to fight. He bulled upward, ignoring the punishment, and flung his arms around the other man's waist. Abel retaliated with a double handed judo chop to the back of the neck; but he held on, linking his forearms in a bearhug, pulling forward. Abel took a fistful of hair, jerking Tinnerman's head from side to side; but slowly the hug lifted him off his feet. Abel was free suddenly, using a body motion Tinnerman hadn't met before, and once again fists flew.