Then there was a flurry about the hatch as a Thorian officer barked orders. The crewmen snapped to smart 'attention'. A moment later _rey_ Gundre himself strode down the ramp, a lean, imposing figure. Ylana followed, close behind him. Together, they moved about the perimeter's defenses, then started back towards the great ship's hatchway. But now Ylana hesitated, and there was a brief moment of discussion. The golden hair rippled as she shook her head and gestured. Her father's shoulders lifted in a shrug. Pivoting, he went on up the ramp without her. Ylana turned. Almost aimlessly, she wandered out among the robots; paused and leaned back against a gigantic metal foot, watching the blue-uniformed crewmen as they toiled and sweated. The shadows grew longer. The crewmen ceased to heed her presence. She moved, then, swiftly, silent as the deepening dusk--sliding around the foot in one quick motion; darting past an unmanned post of the perimeter defenses to a spot out of view amid the tangled debris. Jarl went rigid. Twisting, he worked his way along the observation plate to a place where he again could see her. But already she was on the move again, creeping on hands and knees, farther and farther from the flagship. Where was she going? Why had she broken out of the circle? And what if the primitives should catch her? The thought brought Jarl to his feet, shuddering. Besides, with the thickening gloom down in the hold, perhaps this time he could get an answer to his questions. With one last glance to chart the course that the girl might follow, he ran to the door and threw back the bolt; then slid out and felt his way down the black well that was the spiral stairway. In seconds he was at the bulkhead door. Opening it a crack, he weighed his chances. The crewmen still were busy with their tasks inside the network of defenses. The pools of shadow hung all-enshrouding. Flat on his belly, he wriggled forth and crept along the wall in the same direction he'd seen Ylana take. Out here, once more he caught the cloying, sweetish scent of the hell-broth, mixed with smoke, and the knot in his belly tightened. The shadows loomed like grim reminders of the primitives' dark fury. He moved faster. * * * * * Back around the ship, a ring of blinding lights came on as if to emphasize the death that lurked in the outer darkness. Jarl surged to his feet. Stiff with tension, he searched the gloom for some hint of Ylana. Off to the right, close by the bulkhead, a dull sound rang, as of some object striking metal. Groping, Jarl found a broken brace-bar to serve him as a weapon. Wary, taut-nerved, he worked his way towards the spot from which the noise had come. But he found nothing. Grim recognition of the hopelessness of his task crept through him. He fought it down. Swinging round, deliberately, he kicked a crystalizing metal plate fallen from the great hull's roof.