"But Womar...." Jarl's voice trailed off. He thought of the tales he'd heard, the things he'd seen. Of Venus' hidden satellite and its deserts. Of the Federation ban that made it death to land there. Of the beings behind that ban, the primitives, still unconquered, with their savagery and lust for blood and darkly rumored rites. Tremulous, close to him, Sais whispered, "He gambled his life, Jarl Corvett. In secret, in order that he would not risk yours nor mine." In the distance, Jarl still could hear the wailing _vocorn_ pipes; the shouts, the shrieks, the drunken laughter. A _thes_-wood torch was a flaring pin-point in the blackness. He rolled the acrid taste of Rogek gas about his tongue ... drank in the _Mah'ham's_ stench. Yes, this was Ceres, a Cerestan night, and he was here, with the warmth and softness of dark Sais pressed against him. Yet another part of him was far away ... far, far away in time and space and circumstance, armoring his quivering belly in a surface plate of boldness as he strode out on Horla to face the agony of the flame-death. And there was Wassreck, too, _Ktar_ Wassreck, with his burning eyes and pain-racked body, blasting down through the holocaust to save him. Loyalty ... it was such a feeble, tenuous thing. Yet the bonds it forged were stronger than telonium or steel. Again he cursed, and pushed Sais back. Catching her hand, he turned and led her, stumbling, through the darkness. "Jarl...." He clipped: "We're going to the space-port, _rey_ Gundre's carrier waits for us there." "And then--?" "We blast for Womar." "Jarl--!" He strode on faster--hurrying, giving her no answer. There were too many things to say ... too many words he could not utter. * * * * * They left the alley for another, broader. A _dau_ brushed past them in the murk. Two bulbous Thorians parted, moving out of their way. Curious, glowing eyes of _llorin_ watched them from an entryway. Then, around another turn, the buildings thinned. The odor of Rogek gas and rocket fuel grew stronger. And, ahead, a shadowy group moved from one looming bulk of structure to another. Jarl jerked Sais back into the blackness that rimmed a cone-like _Pervod_ dwelling. "Jarl--" He clapped a hand across Sais' mouth. "Quiet! Bor Legat's men may still be here before us!" Jarl felt a tremor run through her. Ghost-silent, he led the way along the building; then, after a moment's pause, ran on swiftly to an ancient _Fantay_ structure. The shadow-group ahead was breaking up spreading out in a thin black line of menace. Tight-nerved, Jarl drew Sais to the right, parallel to the skirmish line, along the crumbling _Fantay_ spire ... then on through the burrow-like workings of spider men of Rhea, past flat-roofed habitat of the _llorin_. They came out into another alley. But ahead, here, too, he caught a glimpse of motion, the hint of a far-flung raider cordon.