on they heard the sound of war-cries and the splashing of water from
the tunnels. Smoke poured into the room from the quenched and dying fires.
It disappeared almost as fast as it came. Evidently the Lorens were masters
of air-conditioning. Odin was thankful. Knowing Grim Hagen, he had been
fearful of gas. Now that seemed unlikely. Even as Gunnar had predicted,
this last fight would be with knife and sword and spear. Or, if it lasted
long, with clubs and bare hands.

They had spanned space and had mocked at time. Now time was triumphant
as always. Would they end up as pre-stone-age men throwing sticks at one
another? And was this a sample of the end of all the thinking men who
would follow after into space? If so, what a hollow, foolish end to such
high endeavor. Odin remembered an old professor who had said that all
races carry their own seeds of destruction with them wherever they go.
The bees who steal the honey soon die, the old man had said, but the
flowers are pollinated anew and life goes on forever.

But such bleak thoughts were short-lasting. For as soon as the tunnels and
the stairway were cleared of smoke, Grim Hagen's army came pouring into the
room. Grim Hagen had mustered at least two-thousand men. He had divided
these into five groups, and they came through the five entrances at the
same time. Yelling and brandishing swords and flares, they rushed the
barricade.

Jack Odin had underestimated the catapult. The crew released it. And a
shower of spikes tore the invading ranks apart. Odin saw a white-skinned
warrior go to his knees and scream as he tried to pull a six-inch spike
from his eye.

Ato had ordered his men to try for Grim Hagen's trained soldiers first.
Odin saw an old Bron cast a home-made spear with as much ease as a trained
javelin-thrower back home. A soldier tried to pull it out of his chest
until his legs buckled beneath him and he tumbled over backwards.

Then a white-skinned warrior leaped at the barricade and Odin thrust him
through.

* * * * *

Torches began to rain down upon them. Half the defending forces were now
busy with water and sand, beating out the flames.

Then, after what seemed to be hours, the catapult crew cranked their
awkward weapon to the trigger-point again and sent another rain of spikes
into Grim Hagen's ranks.

The floor beyond the barrier was littered with dead and slippery with
blood before Grim Hagen's men broke the barrier.