er to get him away.

It was when they reached the street level that the officer did pause
by one door, beckoning Raf imperiously to join him. The Terran obeyed
reluctantly--and was almost sick.

He was staring down at a dead, very dead body. By the stained rags
still clinging to it, it was one of the aliens, a noble, not one of
the black-clad warriors. The gaping wounds which had almost torn the
unfortunate apart were like nothing Raf had ever seen.

With a guttural sound which expressed his feelings as well as any
words, the officer picked up from the floor a broken spear, the barbed
head of which was dyed the same reddish yellow as the blood still
seeping from the torn body. Swinging the weapon so close to Raf that
the Terran was forced to retreat a step or two to escape contact with
the grisly relic, the officer burst into an impassioned speech. Then
he went back to the gestures which were easier for the spaceman to
understand.

This was the work of a deadly enemy, Raf gathered. And such a fate
awaited any one of them who ventured beyond certain bounds of safety.
Unless this enemy were destroyed, the city--life itself--was no
longer theirs--

Seeing those savage wounds which suggested that an insane fury had
driven the attacker, Raf could believe that. But surely a primitive
spear was no equal to the weapons his guide could command.

When he tried to suggest that, the other shook his head as if
despairing of making plain his real message, and again beckoned Raf to
come with him. They were out on the littered street, heading away from
the central building where the rest of the Terran party must still be.
And Raf, seeing the lengthening shadows, the pools of dusk gathering,
and remembering that spear, could not resist glancing back over his
shoulder now and then. He wondered if the metallic click of his boot
soles on the pavement might not draw attention to them, attention they
would not care to meet. His hand was on his stun gun. But the officer
gave no sign of being worried; he walked along with the assurance of
one who has nothing to fear.

Then Raf caught sight of a patch of color he had seen before and
relaxed. They _were_ on their way back to the flitter! He had come
down this very street earlier. And he did not mind the long climb
back, ramp by steep ramp, which brought him out at last beside the
flyer. His relief was so great that he put out his hand to draw it
along the sleek side of the craft as he m