fire," Jason said, "until we can see who it is. If it's the
people I sent for, let them through."

As the truck came on slowly, the gunner tracked it with his sights.
There was a driver and three passengers. Jason waited until he was
positive who they were.

"Those are the ones," he said. "Stop them at the lock, Rhes, make them
come in one at a time. Take their guns as they enter, then strip them of
_all_ their equipment. There is no way of telling what could be a
concealed weapon. Be specially careful of Brucco--he's the thin one with
a face like an ax edge--make sure you strip him clean. He's a specialist
in weapons and survival. And bring the driver too, we don't want him
reporting back about the broken air lock or the state of our guns."

Waiting was hard. His hand stayed next to the pump switch, even though
he knew he could never use it. Just as long as the others thought he
would.

* * * * *

There were stampings and muttered curses in the corridor; the prisoners
were pushed in. Jason had one look at their deadly expressions and
clenched fists before he called to Rhes.

"Keep them against the wall and watch them. Bowmen keep your weapons
up." He looked at the people who had once been his friends and who now
swam in hatred for him. Meta, Kerk, Brucco. The driver was Skop, the man
Kerk had once appointed to guard him. He looked ready to explode now
that the roles had been reversed.

"Pay close attention," Jason said, "because your lives depend upon it.
Keep your backs to the wall and don't attempt to come any closer to me
than you are now. If you do, you will be shot instantly. If we were
alone, any one of you could undoubtedly reach me before I threw this
switch. But we're not. You have Pyrran reflexes and muscles--but so do
the bowmen. Don't gamble. Because it won't be a gamble. It will be
suicide. I'm telling you this for your own protection. So we can talk
peacefully without one of you losing his temper and suddenly getting
shot. _There is no way out of this._ You are going to be forced to
listen to everything I say. You can't escape or kill me. The war is
over."

"And we lost--and all because of you ... you _traitor_!" Meta snarled.

"Wrong on both counts," Jason said blandly. "I'm not a traitor because I
owe my allegiance to all men on this planet, both inside the perimeter
and out. I never pretended differently. As to losing--why you haven't
lost anything. In fact you