Sweat chilled Boone. "Wait...." In spite of himself, all at once he was pleading. "Kill us both, then--Eileen and me. But not Lor, there. He's a mutant--" "A mutant--?" "Yes. The Helgae, those structures we process--they're living, not dead. They sent him to tell us, to give us their knowledge--" "Their knowledge? What knowledge?" Of a sudden Krobis' black eyes were gleaming and wary. Boone sucked in a breath. "How much would the Cartel give to learn mekronal's structure--the true chemistry of it?" "Mekronal--? This creature can make it? From basic elements found outside Saturn's system?" "Yes." "Then he _must_ die!" Boone rocked under the onslaught. He groped for words; found none. The other kept on talking: "There are things you should know, Boone--and these guards here are men I can trust, so I'll tell you." Martin Krobis smiled thinly. "You always forget that I stand for the Cartel. We're reaching for power, those of us high in it. Mekronal is our weapon. So long as it's ours alone, that power keeps growing. Make it free to all comers, and IC's backbone is broken." "You mean that you'd wipe out a whole culture to hold it? You'd bring war with the Helgae for the sake of the Cartel?" "Are you stupid enough that you have to ask me?" Krobis' words dripped contempt. "We'd do even more, you fool--as witness our gambit with chandak?" "Your gambit--?" Boone rocked again. "So I term it." Now the other was chuckling. "Consider that report Terral showed you, for instance. I meant him to have it." "Then--chandak--" "--Is a fraud, pure and simple. It has no effect at all on mutation. For that matter"--once more, Krobis chuckled--"our tests show that the mutation itself brings new mental powers, not loss of old ones. But a contrary report could bring panic, help to break our opponents. So...." He shrugged. It was a world out of nightmare, a moment to madden. "Damn you, Krobis!" Boone choked. "Damn you!" He flung himself forward, then, heedless of weakness, and the guards, and the weapons. If only his hands could reach Krobis' throat, rend it--! But a clubbed blaster hit him. He sprawled to the floor-plates. Krobis' laugh rang out above him, harsh and vindictive. Death's chill fingers touched him. Only then, in the shadows where Lor lay, his eyes caught strange movement--a slithering, a rustling, a swirling of vapors. Numbly, he wondered.... But guards seized his arms and dragged him up roughly. Martin Krobis spat, "Kill him!" and bloodied his cheekbone. The guards jerked him backwards, stumbling and reeling. As they did so, the movement surged out of the shadows--and now it was more than mere vapor. * * * * * A monster, it rose up--a weird, insectile monster! Great mandibles speared out, clacking and slashing. A guard saw it, cried hoarsely and leaped back. Too late. The thing was upon him. Claws ripped at his belly. A stinger-shaft pierced him. Someone fired with a nerve-gun.