Sais clutched his free hand and tried to lift him. With a desperate effort, he twisted and lunged again, hanging there in space. This time he got a grip on the ledge's inner edge. Sais tugged at his tunic's collar. Gasping for breath, he levered himself higher, up onto his elbows. A final surge carried him out of the chasm. Sais sank down beside him. For a long moment they lay there--both panting, both shaking. But there was no time for weakness. Lurching to his feet, Jarl began working his way around the rim. * * * * * They moved on to new buildings--one, two, half-a-dozen ... always striving in the direction of the port. Then, at last, they reached a final, ramshackle structure only one level high. Beyond it, the ramping-place stretched off through the flare-sparked blackness of the night. Jarl peered down into the flanking alleys. But this time he could find no shadow-cordon, no trace of Legat's raiders. Sais brushed against him. Once more, he caught the half-forgotten fragrance of her hair. He pressed her hand. "It looks good, Sais. Legat never thought about the roofs. His men are farther back in the quarter." "Then--?" "We'll chance it." Her lips touched his cheek. It was her only answer. Together, hand in hand, they slipped down a rickety outside ramp to the ground. In silence, they made their way across the sprawling port's scorched cinders. As they walked, Jarl felt the surface tension leave him. The heavy, mixed smells of Rogek gas and rocket fuel were perfume in his nostrils. His job was done, here at Ceresta. He'd rescued Sais and learned the truth about _Ktar_ Wassreck. Now, he could almost laugh when he thought of Legat. But underneath, a stronger conflict plagued him. Because, again, it was his destiny to go forth to battle ... to lead good men, good friends, to die for the cause of the raider worlds, and loyalty. Frowning, he thought of Wassreck and of Womar ... the giant robots. Of Ungo and Ylana. As for himself, how long could his luck hold? When, at long last, would fate decide to down him? Shrugging, he veered his course in the direction of a massive marker pylon. What did it matter, when he fell? As Legat had said, death came to all raiders. For now, it was enough that he should carve his way and do his duty. Beside him, Sais asked, "How far is it, Jarl? I--I'm so tired." "Only a little way. Just beyond the pylon." He put his arm about her. "I'm glad...." She leaned upon him. Jarl veered again. They rounded the corner of the marker. "Where is it, Jarl?" Sais asked in a weary voice. And then: "Jarl! What's the matter?" But Jarl hardly heard her. He stood stock-still, staring--unable to move, unable to speak. "Jarl--!" He jerked free of the spell of shock; peered this way and that in a frenzy of desperation. Once again, his heart was pounding. But the cindered ramping-place stayed bare and echoing and empty. Carrier and crew alike had vanished!