Malovar made another motion with his hand. The nearest human, one of the men with Docker, was lifted, carried to the altar. Larkin saw the man's muscles writhe against the plastic force envelope that held him, writhe unavailingly. Sunlight glinted on the red blade of the sword as it came down. Again a moan went up from the audience. Malovar pointed with his sword--at Roy Larkin. Elders seized the man, lifted him, carried him to the altar. The sword came up. "NO!" A single burst of involuntary sound came from the lips of the trader. He leaped forward. "NO!" Malovar held the sword, looked at him. The Martian looked a little sad. "I know he is your son, my friend, but he came here to cheat and to rob. Men under his direction have killed." "But--" "The laws of my people are explicit," Malovar continued. "Nor will I stay my hand for the sake of friendship at the time of the testing." "But--" Larkin still protested. Here was a bond, an obligation, that went beyond friendship. "I am sorry," Malovar said gently. His tone of voice and the expression on his face said he was really sorry. But they also said he had no intention of holding his hand from striking. Boyd Larkin moved again. He was not quite sure why he did what he did and he was utterly unsure as to what the result would be, but in the face of the rising sword, he lifted his son from the altar. "I claim your law," he said. "I take his place." He laid himself on the altar. Over the watching throng there was silence. He sensed rather than saw Malovar lift the sword. There was a stir of feet near him. A gentle voice spoke. "I also claim the law. I have bought his life once this day. You may not strike him." Seekin's voice. Soft and gentle but very firm and very sure. Seekin stood before the altar with uplifted hand. He spoke to Malovar but his eyes were on Larkin. "You are free, my friend. Our laws protect you now and will protect you until the next time of the testing." Malovar lowered the sword blade. "Our laws hold," he said. "I may not accept you as a substitute sacrifice. Nor may I accept Seekin. Nor may I accept him--" his eyes sought Roy Larkin. His voice became terrible as he spoke a single word. "--now." He made a gesture with his hand toward the elder who had taken his metal staff. The elder touched the staff in a certain place. Around Roy Larkin the plastic envelope vanished. Roy Larkin came to his feet, his fingers clutching the _Kell_ gun, the wild light of terror in his eyes. Looking at him, Boyd Larkin caught his breath. There was such terror and wild fear in this man as he had never seen before, such terror as might send death spurting from the muzzle of the _Kell_ gun in a steady stream.