together.

Kerk was giving orders for the landing and questions were snapped back
and forth. It was all technical and Jason didn't bother following it. It
was the attitude of the Pyrrans that drew his attention. Their talk
tended to be faster now as were their motions. They were like soldiers
preparing for battle.

Their sameness struck Jason for the first time. Not that they looked
alike or did the same things. It was the _way_ they moved and reacted
that caused the striking similarity. They were like great, stalking
cats. Walking fast, tense and ready to spring at all times, their eyes
never still for an instant.

Jason tried to talk to Meta after the meeting, but she was almost a
stranger. She answered in monosyllables and her eyes never met his, just
brushed over them and went on. There was nothing he could really say so
she moved to leave. He started to put his hand out to stop her--then
thought better of it. There would be other times to talk.

Kerk was the only one who took any notice of him--and then only to order
him to an acceleration couch.

Meta's landings were infinitely worse than her take-offs. At least when
she landed on Pyrrus. There were sudden acceleration surges in every
direction. At one point there was a free fall that seemed endless. There
were loud thuds against the hull that shook the framework of the ship.
It was more like a battle than a landing, and Jason wondered how much
truth there was in that.

When the ship finally landed Jason didn't even know it. The constant
2 G's felt like deceleration. Only the descending moan of the ship's
engines convinced him they were down. Unbuckling the straps and sitting
up was an effort.

Two G's don't seem that bad--at first. Walking required the same
exertion as would carrying a man of his own weight on his shoulders.
When Jason lifted his arm to unlatch the door it was heavy as two arms.
He shuffled slowly towards the main lock.

[Illustration]

They were all there ahead of him, two of the men rolling transparent
cylinders from a nearby room. From their obvious weight and the way they
clanged when they bumped, Jason knew they were made of transparent
metal. He couldn't conceive any possible use for them. Empty cylinders a
meter in diameter, longer than a man. One end solid, the other hinged
and sealed. It wasn't until Kerk spun the sealing wheel and opened one
of them that their use became apparent.

"Get in," Kerk said. "When you're locked i