But as he did so, the cruiser dropped with swift precision. The balancing fins bit in atop a level dune near where the crippled carrier lay. Gears ground. A hatch spun swiftly outward on its screw-locks. The man on the ground broke into a stumbling run. From the cruiser, an amplifier blared harsh male syllables: "Halt, you chitza!" And then: "Pull up, rack you! Freeze! You know you can't get away!" The runner scrambled over a low ledge, then on again. He gave no sign he'd even heard. "You want a blast, huh, Thigpen? You want to go back with your legs knotted up like old Pike Mawson's!" The runner's stride broke. Flinging himself sidewise, he rolled bodily down a short, sandy slope, then came up fast and plunged headlong into the shelter of a grotesquely-shaped rock pillar. Aboard the cruiser, someone cursed: the amplifier picked up the echo. Voices rose angrily, only to cut off again as sharply as if slashed with a knife. And now, a new voice. A woman's voice, ragged and not quite steady: "Don't worry, Thigpen. No one's going to hurt you. You've my word for that." * * * * * A little eddy of dust drifted out from behind the rock pillar; that was all. Again, the woman's voice: "This is Veta Hall, Thigpen. You don't know me, but you've probably heard of the man I'm speaking for: Pike Mawson, the adjudicator on Japetus. He wants to make a deal with you." From the rock pillar, silence only. "You needn't play coy, Thigpen. Mawson knows all about that 'life catalyst' you helped Tornelescu work out. That's why he sent us for you. He's old and crippled; he needs that catalyst himself, so he can find youth again. He'll give anything for it--anything you name. And he doesn't care how many human guinea pigs you killed developing it, or that you cut old Tornelescu's throat. He'll even help hide you from the FedGov men, if that's worrying you." The last eddy of dust from behind the rock faded away. "Please, Thigpen!" the woman begged. "Please surrender! It's suicide if you don't." A pause. "Look: you've heard of Igor Cheng, haven't you? The slaver from the Belt? Well, that's who Mawson sent with me to help bring you in--Cheng and three of his pet Belt killers. Only now that the FedGov's put a price on your head...." The woman's voice trailed off. Then, after a moment, it rose again, with such violence the amplifier screamed protest. "Don't you understand, you fool?" she cried hysterically. "If you come in now, Igor's willing to live up to his bargain with Mawson. But if you give him trouble, he'll kill you for the FedGov bounty. Only if he does that, then he'll have to murder me too, so I can't give him away to Mawson when he claims pushing you off was an accident, or self-defense, or whatever other story he decides on!" Again, silence, broken only by the whish of blowing sand and the ululations of the wind.