The fresh androids drove into Slag and Yorg's flank, wedged in the screaming fighters, threw them back on themselves. A hairy red arm wielded a club like a blackjack. A white-furred arm cut and stabbed with a sword. But the androids came forward. They rolled over the outlaws. Gordon said sadly, "We'd best fall back, Karola. We can't hold them any longer." * * * * * Here in the cave opening, Thor stood up and moved his axe, testing its heft. Green light danced and flared on the broad blades. Thor grinned wolfishly, and went forward. Stepping carefully, using the shadows of the stalagmites to hide his giant frame, Thor went deeper into the cave, closer to the green flame that flared in the bowels of the mountain. It was warm here, for Aava was a thing of fire. On the skin sandals that gave no sound, he stepped forward. He walked in the myriad light that the flame plucked from the gems and spread throughout his cave. He could see the bridge of rock that lifted its stone arc high to the towering, shadowy roof of the cave. Up there, in the black shadows, he could stand on that bridge and be close to the roof--close enough to swing an axe. Thor sped silently across the empty space between tumbled rock slabs. He leaped for the bridge and ran up its curving back. * * * * * Slag and Yorg bled from a score of wounds as they fought their fight by the settlement gate with club and sword. Side by side, two against an army, they dug bleeding feet into stone streets, and fought like madmen. They piled androids in front and to the sides. They made a funereal mountain of wrecked, synthetic bodies. Slag and Yorg would die here. They knew it, yet they fought on. The others needed time to get to the circular tower, to fight their last stand against Aava. So the club and the sword stayed swinging, and the pile grew higher. Now they could hear the trundling of the urn-wagons. Yorg panted, "They come nearer, Slag." "It will not be long. You are good fighter, Yorg." The androids fell away. An urn was coming up. Behind it, androids massed with spears and swords, ready to attack when these madmen were wiped from their path. Yorg rested on his blade and grinned at Slag. "Thor would attack that urn and tip it. Then the androids would get the force of it. It would kill a lot, facing that army." Slag grunted and gripped his club. The urn began to tilt toward the two bloody fighters. Yorg growled in his throat, and the red dwarf and the white ape leaped forward. They struck the urn with their feet, at its apex. The clay vase shuddered and swung back. A green light reared up, blazing fury and annihilation. Slag and York fell forward, over the lip of the urn as it dropped toward the androids. A beam of green blight swept outward, over the massed androids. As a breath blows out the candleflame, so the green fire blew away the androids.