Chapter V

The attacking fleet, the medium fighter and twelve scouts, roared in over the city and blaster fire came up to meet them. They passed through the wall of flame with the loss of only one scout and then they opened up with their own weapons. The only effect of their combined fire was to make the invisible force screen protecting their target flash and flare.

They made a second pass. Two more scouts went down and Savage decided that they too crashed. He manipulated the controls and the scout lurched sickeningly and went into a steep dive.

At the last possible moment Savage pulled out and, barely off the streets, roared between the buildings toward Supreme Headquarters. He slowed as they approached the building and rested one hand lightly on the bank of blaster studs.

"Brace yourself, we're going in," he said and slammed down on the studs. A chunk of wall in front of them disintegrated and he decelerated savagely. They went through the gap at dead low speed, but still they crashed through two inner walls before they finally stopped. They were bruised and shaken, but otherwise unhurt.

"Here's where we get out," Savage announced and Larhana's voice came from behind them.

"Wait for me," she cried and they whirled around.

From somewhere she had gotten a suit of coveralls that were almost the right size, as well as a helmet and mask. Two blasters were belted to her slim waist and the whole effect was one of efficient deadliness, spoiled only by the loveliness that insisted on making itself known through the coveralls.

"What are you doing here?" Savage finally got out.

"I wanted to help you," she said simply.

"What are we to do?" asked Slan. "We surely can't leave her here."

"She'll have to come with us. Let's go," Savage said, there was no time for argument or recrimination.

He kicked open the hatch and jumped down to the rubble covered floor. Flames were already crackling behind the ship as he helped Larhana alight, and when Slan had joined them he blasted their way through the wall into a corridor.

With Slan in the lead they ran to the levitor bank. They had just reached it when a pair of doors slid open and black-uniformed men poured out, only to be cut down bloodily by Savage's blaster. The carnage lasted only a few moments and then they were in the levitor.

"Czako's offices are on the forty-fifth floor," Slan explained as he pressed the stud. "They will be thick with his men, of course."

Savage nodded grimly, his weapons ready, and watched the moving indicator. Then, as the forty-third floor clicked by and they were bracing themselves for the rush, a muffled blast rocked the building. The lights went out and they were hurled to the floor as the car stopped abruptly. Then they began to fall.

For an agonizing moment they felt helpless, doomed. Then the safety brakes went on and the car ground to a halt.

"What happened?" Larhana gasped.

"The fire must have gotten to the scout's fuel or blaster magazine and it blew up," Savage said. "But we've got to get out of here."

Slan produced a hand torch while Savage tried to open the doors.

"They're jammed," he said after a moment's effort. "Stand back. I'll use a blaster."

The car filled with heat and smoke and the stink of burning metal came through their masks. Finally he had a man-sized opening and he stuck his head out cautiously. A blaster bolt from down the hall gashed the door above his head and he recoiled.

"Burn a hole through the back while I keep them busy," he ordered and he felt reflected heat from behind him as he filled the hall outside with flame.

A few minutes later he heard Slan whisper from close behind him, "Everything is clear on the other side and Larhana is on guard. As soon as I finish this we can get out of here."

Alternating his attention between the hall and Slan, Savage watched him set a block charge booby-trap with practiced efficiency. Then he was finished and they stepped over the trip-wire and out of the levitor.

* * * * *

They ran across the room and as they went through the door a blaster roared behind them. Slan screamed and fell, only his momentum carrying him around the angle of the door jamb. Savage whirled to return the fire and then the block charge erupted and was thrown against a desk.

Protected by the wall Larhana was already at Slan's side as Savage picked himself up. Vainly she was trying to staunch the flow of blood from the clean-cut stumps that were all that remained of Slan's legs.

Savage quickly took two pieces of Plastograft from his kit and with them sealed the stumps as Slan ground out between clenched teeth, "You've got to get Czako." He struggled to get up, but fell back into Larhana's arms, sweat glistening on his face.

"We'll take care of you first," Savage said.

"Get Czako," Slan gasped. "Take the stairs.... Room five leads to office.... Armored door, use block charge.... Three blocks.... Hurry, hurry...."

His voice trailed off to nothingness and he died.

Larhana's green eyes were blazing as they cautiously traversed the offices.

At the forty-fifth floor Savage tried the door. It opened and then the frame splintered under the impact of a heavy needle gun. They dropped to the floor, leaving the door ajar. He held his heat gun and blaster together and quickly shoved them through the opening toward the unseen gun and pressed the studs. They roared and a scream answered.

Still on the floor, he twisted his weapons around and bathed the hall with flame in the other direction. Then he scrambled to his feet and with her dancer's agility Larhana followed him. Behind the flame of his weapons they ran down the scarred hall and found office five.

Savage took no chances; he used the blaster on the door and his heat gun was on as they went in. The room's furnishings were reduced to charred ruins, as were the three guards, but after the draperies and papers were consumed there was nothing left to burn.

"Keep your eyes on the door while I get the charges ready," Savage ordered.

He went to the armored door set into the opposite wall and carefully taped on the block charges. Then he set and connected the igniter.

Returning to Larhana, he said, "We don't have much time now. Cover me while I toss a couple of charges down the hall. As soon as they go off, run across to that other office and get under cover."

Quickly he prepared two more charges, setting the igniters for contact. He threw one and it had not yet exploded when he threw the second. The roaring double blast shook the floor and ferro-concrete dust filled the hall. Behind a sheet of flame they raced across the hall. Then, sheltered behind the wall, they waited for the next blast.

Savage was ready to believe that something had gone wrong with the igniter when the roaring thunder came. The rolling concussion lifted them and then slammed them with cruel violence to the floor. They lay dazed for a long moment before they were able to get up and return to office five. This time there was no interference.

The charge had blown in the heavy door and crushed under it was a twisted needle gun and its crew. Of the five other men in the room, only one seemed capable of movement. He made a feeble effort to raise his blaster and Savage cut him down.

They found High Commissioner Czako dazed and bleeding behind his huge desk. Savage hauled him roughly to his feet and jabbed the blaster into his middle.

"You're finished, Czako," he said. "Get on the radio and tell your men to lay down their arms."

Czako nodded in bitter defeat.

* * * * *

It was three Trygonian months later when His Highness, Emperor Kalnor met Savage and Larhana at the great space-port. Above them loomed the _Agreet_, ready to depart on its voyage through hyper-space to Terra.

"We'll be back someday," Larhana promised.

"Yes," agreed Savage. "I'm as much Trygonian now as Terran, but we want to see Terra on the road to complete reconstruction first. A lot of prejudices will have to be overcome, but in time it will be done."