le edgily. "But we can't
always find an empty tankette."

"Quite right, lad," The Barbarian said. "I saw some vehicles parked over
that way."

"Those belong to the nobles. There ought to be some captured ones of
yours somewhere around here."

"With plenty of guards on them. No, thanks."

"That didn't trouble you earlier."

"Myka, as you may have noticed, is more than a tank. This time the prize
isn't worth it. I'd rather just slip over to where I can get
transportation for the choosing."

"Not with my help."

The Barbarian looked at him and grunted. He seemed oddly disappointed.
"I would have bet the other way," he muttered. Then the shaggy head
rose, and he circled Myka's waist with one arm. "All right, I'll do it
without your help."

"Is Myka trained to drive a tankette and fight at the same time?"

"No."

"Then you'd better do it my way. You'd make a poor showing, kicking
drive levers with a broken leg." Geoffrey nodded toward The Barbarian's
right shin. "It's been that way since before you picked me up, hasn't
it? I saw it wobble when you kneed that man-at-arms."

Myka looked at The Barbarian sharply, worry on her face, but the man was
chuckling. "All right, bucko, we'll do it your way."

"Fine." Geoffrey wasn't so sure it was. Suddenly he was committed not
only to helping The Barbarian escape, but also to escape with him. He
was faintly surprised at himself. But there was something about the man.
Something worth saving, no matter what. And there was the business now
of having been recognized. Once Dugald learned he was still alive, there
would be a considerable amount of danger in staying in the vicinity. Of
course, he had only to stoop over the unconscious guard with The
Barbarian's knife....

With a quick motion, he tossed the weapon back to its owner.

_That_ one was an easy choice, Geoffrey thought. Simply stealing--or was
it recapturing?--a tankette and using it to drive away with Myka and The
Barbarian didn't mean he had to go all the way to the barbarian lands
with them. Let the guard revive and run to Dugald with the news. All
Geoffrey had to do was to remove himself a few miles, find shelter, and
bide his time.

One recaptured barbarian tankette might not even be missed. And the
guard might not be believed--well, that was a thin hope--but, in any
case, no one had any reason to suspect The Barbarian was still alive.
There'd be no general pursuit.

Well ... maybe not. There was a man-at