“What’s going on here?” the leader demanded. “The board showed an open door down here.” He saw the body--“Mr. Douglas!” he gasped. “The commandant will have to know about this!” He took a communicator from his waist belt and spoke rapidly into it. “Arleson in stud cell block,” he said. “Attempted escape. One casualty--Douglas Alexander--yes, that’s right. No--he’s not dead. Send a litter and bearers. Inform the commandant. I am making investigation on the spot. Out.” He turned to look coldly at Kennon. “Who are you--and what happened here?” he asked. Kennon told him. “You mean you took George!” Arleson said. “Look in his cell if you don’t believe me.” The soldier looked and then turned hack to Kennon. There was awed respect in his hard brown eyes. “You did that!--to him! Man, you’re a fighter,” he said in an unbelieving voice. A stretcher detail manned by two sober-faced Lani females came in, loaded Douglas’s body on the stretcher, and silently bore it away. “Douglas was a fool,” Arleson said. “He knew we never handle this kind without maximum restraint. I wonder why he did it?” “I couldn’t say. He told me that gas and shackles would hold him.” “He knew better. These Lani know gas capsules. All George had to do was hold his breath. In that cell George would have killed you. You couldn’t have stayed away from him.” Kennon shrugged. Maybe that was what Douglas had wanted. Kennon sighed. He didn’t have the answer. And it could just be that Douglas had tried to show off. Well, he would pay for it. He’d have a stiff neck for months, and perhaps that was a proper way to end it. * * * Commander Mullins, a thin gray-faced man with the hard cold eyes of a professional soldier, came into the corridor followed by another trooper. His eyes took in the wreckage that had been George, the split lips, the smashed nose, the puffed eyes, the cuts and bruises, and then raked across Kennon. “Spaceman--hey?” he asked. “I’ve seen work like that before.” Kennon nodded. “I was once. I’m station veterinarian now. Douglas called me over--said it was an emergency.” Mullins nodded. “Well--why aren’t you tending to it?” “I have to examine them,” Kennon said gesturing at the cells. “And I don’t want any more trouble like this.” “Don’t worry. You won’t have it. Now that you’ve beaten George, you’ll have no trouble at all. You’re top dog.” Mullins gestured at the cages. “They’ll be good for a while. Now you’d better get on with your work. There’s been enough disruption of routine for today. The men will help you.” * * * Kennon checked in at the commandant’s office before he left for the main island. “How is Douglas?” he asked. “He’s alive,” Mullins said. “We flew him to Albertsville--and good riddance. How are the Lani?”