saw that he was right.
It was a small planetoid, perhaps a mile or so in diameter. Almost
zero gravity. Airless.
Odal swiveled his head inside the fishbowl helmet of his spacesuit and
saw, over his right shoulder, the figure of Hector--lank and ungainly
even with the bulky suit. For a moment, Odal puzzled over the weapon
to be used. Then Hector bent down, picked up a loose stone,
straightened, and tossed it softly past Odal's head. The Kerak major
watched it sail by and off into the darkness of space, never to return
to the tiny planetoid.
_A warning shot_, Odal thought to himself. He wondered how much damage
one could do with a nearly weightless stone, then remembered that
inertial mass was unaffected by gravitational fields, or the lack of
them. A fifty-pound rock might be easier to lift, but it would be just
as hard to throw--and it would do just as much damage when it hit,
regardless of its gravitational "weight."
Odal crouched down and selected a stone the size of his fist. He rose
carefully, sighted Hector standing a hundred yards or so away, and
threw as hard as he could.
The effort of his throw sent him tumbling off-balance, and the stone
was far off-target. He fell to his hands and knees, bounced lightly
and skidded to a stop. Immediately he drew his feet up under his body
and planted the magnetized soles of his boots firmly on the iron-rich
surface.
But before he could stand again, a small stone _pinged_ lightly off
his oxygen tank. The Star Watchman had his range already!
Odal scrambled to the nearest upjutting rocks and crouched behind
them. _Lucky I didn't rip open the spacesuit_, he told himself. Three
stones, evidently hurled in salvo, ticked off the top of the top of
the rocks he was hunched behind. One of the stones bounced into his
fishbowl helmet.
Odal scooped up a handful of pebbles and tossed them in Hector's
general direction. That should make him duck. Perhaps he'll stumble
and crack his helmet open.
Then he grinned to himself. That's it. Kor wants him dead, and that is
the way to do it. Pin him under a big rock, then bury him alive under
more rocks. A few at a time, stretched out nicely. While his oxygen
supply gives out. That should put enough stress on his nervous system
to hospitalize him, at least. Then he can assassinated by more
conventional means. Perhaps he will even be as obliging as Massan, and
have a fatal stroke.
A large rock. One that is light enough to lift an
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