rder, and it was
bad. Then it was very bad. But he wouldn't let go of the power-rapier.
_The Jovian'll be here! I've got to_--

Latham moved his hand beneath him. The hand twisted and brought up the
tube and his fingers touched a tiny stud. He didn't know which way it
was pointing, it was too late to wonder. His finger pressed the stud
and Kueelo was screaming. Then the pressure in his throat went away.

He was on his feet as the Jovian came ploughing through the huddle of
frightened gweels. Latham tried to get the rapier-tube up, but his
arms were numbed and weary, a red mist swam before his eyes. A
powerful blow sent the weapon hurtling away, then the Jovian was upon
him; huge arms closed about him. It was useless to struggle. Latham
could see the man's lips writhing back in a soundless rage.

Latham brought a knee up in a purely desperate move. Kraaz grunted,
stumbled and fell, but he didn't let go. They were rolling together
down the slope. The Jovian's arms were a vise crushing away his life.
Latham had a glimpse of a cliff falling sheerly away, with those
deadly thorn-ferns reaching up from below.

_If I'm to die, it's going to be my way!_

That was Latham's last conscious thought as he surged against the
Jovian's braking body; his fingers clung tenaciously, his last ebbing
strength carried them both over the edge. Kraaz's arms broke away.
Latham lashed out with his feet, then he was twisting, falling, far
out into space ... and that's all he remembered.

Hands were tugging at him. A shrill chatter of voices rang in his
ears. Someone was holding a gourd to his lips, trying to pour a hot
sticky substance down his throat. Latham sat up and knocked the gourd
away. The little group of gweels fell back. Some of them were still
chattering, staring overhead with awe-stricken eyes.

Latham looked up and saw Kraaz, the Jovian. The huge bulk hung twenty
feet above, tangled in the foliage of a giant fern.

One thorn had entered his chest, another completely pierced his
throat. He was quite dead.

Wearily, Latham made his way back up to the village. Kueelo still lay
there with the blackened hole through him. Latham tore away the
leather pouch holding the Josmian; he had fought through hell and
swamp and jungle for this, and by all the Redtails of Jupiter, he was
taking it back! He thought of Penger, and the tsith awaiting him
there. Most of all he thought of Callisto and the iridium fields,
which would mean much mo