The darkness went away and they were back in space again. Far ahead of them a star glittered with blue shimmerings. Faint and distant from the star, tiny gray balls in space, were three planets. Nuala touched a stud on the steel wall. "A force-sheath," she smiled. "We'd never get close enough to the planet to land if we didn't have it." A whiteness swept up before the windows, hiding the star and the three planets. Nuala moved forward, past Travis. With a touch of her finger, she slipped on the automatic pilot. "There. Now we can do nothing else but--wait." They did not wait long. The humming alarm of the warning buzzer drove Nuala to the controls. With speeding hands, she upped the force sheath stud, depressed the landing lever. Travis was at her side, staring down at rolling grasslands, at the distant peak of a snow-topped mountain. He muttered, "It looks like Earth!" The space-ship rode on its belly across the grass. Travis went to the curved door and flung it open. Sweet cool air drove inside the room on the wings of a breeze. Something clanged against the metal doorlock. Hooves drummed on the grass. Another pellet dented the hull of the ship, blew into a thousand splinters. Travis got his face out of the way just in time. His hand dropped to his holster, came up with the ringed _stil_-gun that had been changed over by Nuala. Horsemen were approaching, fast. He slammed a finger down on the trigger. Green flame blasted from the muzzle, swept like a cloud across the grasses. The horsemen came up the side of a hill, heading for the ship. Before the green light reached them, Travis had a quick look at the heavyset, white-skinned men who kneed their mounts, long tubes at their shoulders. They looked like barbarians, but they held those queer tubes in their hands. Nuala screamed, "Atholiners! Quick--jump for it!" She was at his side, clutching at his hands. "Those little pellets--they'll eat everything they hit. Quick! By Grock ... be quick!" Travis had a confused glimpse of her flashing eyes, of a gaping hole rapidly spreading along the smooth, metallic side of the ship. His legs tensed, and he was jumping. Ahead of him the green light was bathing the horsemen in its verdant flame. A man screamed. The scream gurgled, died abruptly. He landed and rolled. He came to his feet, _stil_-gun in hand. The horsemen were just particles of lazily floating dust. Travis turned to his ship, saw it eaten before his eyes, as though an invisible beast were champing on it, taking huge mouthfuls. Then the ship was gone, and he and Nuala stood alone on the grassy knoll. "Some surprise party," he said, and laughed harshly. "We have one gun--which doesn't mean a thing, if Rudra is anything like you think he is."