egis Hastur stood there.

Forth rose courteously and Jay got to his feet like a mechanical doll
jerked on strings. The young Darkovan ruler smiled engagingly at him:

"Don't bother, this visit is informal; that's the reason I came here
rather than inviting you both to the Tower. Dr. Forth? It is a pleasure
to meet you again, sir. I hope that our gratitude to you will soon take
a more tangible form. There has not been a single death from the
trailmen's fever since you made the serum available."

Jay, motionless, saw bitterly that the old man had succumbed to the
youngster's deliberate charm. The chubby, wrinkled old face seamed up in
a pleased smile as Forth said, "The gifts sent to the trailmen in your
name, Lord Hastur, were greatly welcomed."

"Do you think that any of us will ever forget what they have done?"
Regis replied. He turned toward the window and smiled rather tentatively
at the man who stood there; motionless since his first conventional
gesture of politeness:

"Dr. Allison, do you remember me at all?"

"I remember you," Jay Allison said sullenly.

His voice hung heavy in the room, its sound a miasma in his ears. All
his sleepless, nightmare-charged brooding, all his bottled hate for
Darkover and the memories he had tried to bury, erupted into
overwrought bitterness against this too-ingratiating youngster who was
a demigod on this world and who had humiliated him, repudiated him for
the hated Jason ... for Jay, Regis had suddenly become the symbol of a
world that hated him, forced him into a false mold.

A black and rushing wind seemed to blur the room. He said hoarsely, "I
remember you all right," and took one savage, hurtling step.

The weight of the unexpected blow spun Regis around, and the next moment
Jay Allison, who had never touched another human being except with the
remote hands of healing, closed steely, murderous hands around Regis'
throat. The world thinned out into a crimson rage. There were shouting
and sudden noises, and a red-hot explosion in his brain ...

* * * * *

"You'd better drink this," Forth remarked, and I realized I was turning
a paper cup in my hands. Forth sat down, a little weakly, as I raised it
to my lips and sipped. Regis took his hand away from his throat and said
huskily, "I could use some of that, Doctor."

I put the whiskey down. "You'll do better with water until your throat
muscles are healed," I said swiftly, and went to fi