exultation in his voice.

17

DESTRUCTION UNLEASHED

The space they now entered must be the core of the building, Raf
thought a little dazedly. For there, towering over them was the round
bulb of the globe. And about its open hatch were piles of the material
which he had last seen in the warehouse on the other continent. The
unloading of the alien ship had been hastily interrupted.

Since neither the merman nor Dalgard took cover, Raf judged that they
did not fear attack now. But when he turned his attention away from
the ship, he found not only the colony scout but most of the sea
people gathered about him as if waiting for some action on his part.

"What is it?" He could feel it, that strong pressure, that band
united, in willing him into some move. His stubborn streak of
independence made his reaction contrary. He was not going to be pushed
into anything.

"In this hour," Dalgard spoke aloud, avoiding the mind touch which
might stiffen Raf's rebellion. He wished that some older, wiser Elder
from Homeport were there. So little time--Yet this stranger with
practically no effort might accomplish all they had come to do, if he
could only be persuaded into action. "In this hour, here is the heart
of what civilization remains to Those Others. Destroy it, and it will
not matter whether they kill us. For in the days to come they will
have nothing left."

Raf understood. This was why he had been brought here. They wanted
him to use the blast bombs. And one part of him _was_ calculating the
best places to set his two remaining bombs for the wildest possible
destruction. That part of him could accept the logic of Dalgard's
reasoning. He doubted if the aliens could repair the globe if it were
damaged, and he was sure that much which they had brought back from
the eastern continent was irreplaceable. The bombs had not been
intended for such a use. They were defensive, anti-personal weapons to
be employed as he had done against the lizard in the arena. But placed
properly--Without thinking his hands went to the sealed pocket in the
breast of his tunic.

Dalgard saw that gesture and inside him some taut cord began to
unwind. Then the stranger's hands dropped, and he swung around to face
the colony scout squarely, a scowl twisting his black brows almost
together.

"This isn't my fight," he stated flatly. "I've got to get back to the
flitter, to my spacer--"

What was the matter? Dalgard tried to understand. If