The sound echoed, loud and startling in the silence. Jarl stood stock-still, straining his ears for some reaction. So close at hand it made him jerk, there was a sudden rasp of movement. Heedless now of noise, Jarl sprinted towards it. In a mighty leap, he cleared a heap of black-scorched litter. Ylana crouched beyond it. Face a white blotch in the murk, she started up as he made the hurdle. Her mouth came open. He could hear the first whisper of a scream rising in her throat. Savagely, he jammed his open palm across her mouth and swept her to him, smothering her kicks and blows and struggles. Lips close to her ear, he rasped, "Ylana! It's me--Jarl...." He could feel her muscles contract, her body stiffen. Then, suddenly, she was limp in his arms--clinging to him, half-sobbing. "Quick! We've got to move!" He dragged her with him, on along the bulkhead, then off amid the black mass of the debris. Halting, finally, once more he strained his ears, listening for any hint that they'd been heard and followed. But none came. At last, relaxing, he let go of her and slumped down into the drifted sand and litter. He could feel the girl's eyes on him. But he held his silence. "Jarl Corvett ..." she choked. And then, in a rush: "Thank the Gods you came, Jarl; so glad...." She dropped down close beside him, her shoulder pressing against him, her hand on his. Turning, he studied her. The grey eyes were black-shadowed, her lovely face deep-lined. Of a sudden he wanted nothing so much as to embrace her. But there were so many questions to be answered.... He flung them at her bluntly: "Why did they come here, Ylana--your father; Bor Legat? What brought them down to Womar--to this ship?" He could see her soft lips quiver. For an instant the grey eyes wavered. * * * * * But then they raised again and met his gaze. She said: "My father is a traitor, Jarl Corvett--a traitor to himself and all the things he believes in, and to the Federation." Jarl stared, unspeaking. The girl's mouth worked. Her fingers gouged his hand. "Jarl--oh Jarl...." Agony was in her voice. "Before, I told you how he'd loot Ceresta. Now--now he's gone the whole way. He dreams of still more power--of carving out an empire, destroying the Federation with its own fleet. His orders--I learned today they were to arrange a truce and spare Ceresta, give the asteroids their freedom and bring them into the Federation on even terms. But he's beyond that. All he can think of is loot and power, destruction. He's mad--mad, Jarl; stark, raving mad...." The girl's voice broke. Sobbing, she buried her face against Jarl's shoulder. Hard-jawed, tight-lipped, he held her close. But he did not dare let feeling touch him. Not now, with time so short; so much at stake. If the asteroids could hold their freedom, even in the Federation; if Ceresta and the raider fleet were only spared....