ou're not in uniform----"

"No, sir," he admitted. "I couldn't find my own kit."

"Where are your badges?"

Shann's hand went up to the marks left when he had so carefully ripped
off the insignia.

"My badges? I have no rank," he replied, bewildered.

"Every team carries at least one cadet on strength."

Shann flushed. There had been one cadet on this team; why did Thorvald
want to remember that?

"Also," the other's voice sounded remote, "there can be appointments
made in the field--for cause. Those appointments are left to the
discretion of the officer-in-charge, and they are never questioned. I
repeat, you are not in uniform, Lantee. You will make the necessary
alteration and report to me at headquarters dome. As sole
representatives of Terra here we have a matter of protocol to be
discussed with our witches, and they have a right to expect punctuality
from a pair of warlocks, so get going!"

Shann still stood, staring incredulously at the officer. Then Thorvald's
official severity vanished in a smile which was warm and real.

"Get going," he ordered once more, "before I have to log you for
inattention to orders."

Shann turned, nearly stumbling over Taggi, and then ran back to the
barracks in quest of some very important bits of braid he hoped he could
find in a hurry.

STORM OVER WARLOCK

"A satisfying and mature novel which readers will seize upon if they
want to enjoy a good adventure story.

"A survey base on a remote planet is wiped out by a raid of Earth's
enemies, the Throgs; the only survivor must face the perils of an
unexplored planet while trying somehow to strike back at the enemy....

"As always Norton creates both human and alien beings well, and tells a
story that you can't stop reading."

--_New York Herald Tribune_

"UP TO NORTON'S BEST STANDARDS."

--_Library Journal_

The Throg task force struck the Terran survey camp a few minutes after
dawn, without warning, and with a deadly precision which argued that the
aliens had fully reconnoitered and prepared that attack. Eye-searing
lances of energy lashed back and forth across the base with methodical
accuracy. And a single cowering witness, flattened on a ledge in the
heights above, knew that when the last of those yellow-red bolts fell,
nothing human would be left alive down there.

And so Shann Lantee, most menial of the Terrans attached to the camp on
the planet Warlock, was left alone and weaponless in the stra