ann
tried to counterfeit what he believed would be the gait of a man under
compulsion.

Now he was on the rim fronting the downslope, fighting against his
desire to turn and see for himself if anything had climbed behind. The
canoe was all wrong, a bad job which he must make better at once so that
in the morning he would be free of this island prison.

The pressure of that other's will grew stronger. And the Terran read
into that the overconfidence which he believed would be part of the
enemy's character. The one who was sending him to destroy his own work
had no suspicion that the victim was not entirely malleable, ready to be
used as he himself would use a knife or a force ax. Shann strode
steadily downslope. With a small spurt of fear he knew that in a way
that unseen other was right; the pressure was taking over, even though
he was awake this time. The Terran tried to will his hand to his
stunner, but his fingers fell instead on the hilt of his knife. He drew
the blade as panic seethed in his head, chilling him from within. He had
underestimated the other's power....

And that panic flared into open fight, making him forget his careful
plans. Now he _must_ wrench free from this control. The knife was moving
to slash a hide lashing, directed by his hand, but not his will.

A soundless gasp, a flash of dismay rocked him, but neither was his gasp
nor his dismay. That pressure snapped off; he was free. But the other
wasn't! Knife still in fist, Shann turned and ran upslope, his torch in
his other hand. He could see a shape now writhing, fighting, outlined
against a light bush. And, fearing that the stranger might win free and
disappear, the Terran spotlighted the captive in the beam, reckless of
Throg or enemy reinforcements.

The other crouched, plainly startled by the sudden burst of light. Shann
stopped abruptly. He had not really built up any mental picture of what
he had expected to find in his snare, but this prisoner was as weirdly
alien to him as a Throg. The light on the torch was reflected off a
skin which glittered as if scaled, glittered with the brilliance of
jewels in bands and coils of color spreading from the throat down the
chest, spiraling about upper arms, around waist and thighs, as if the
stranger wore a treasure house of gems as part of a living body. Except
for those patterned loops, coils, and bands, the body had no clothing,
though a belt about the slender middle supported a pair of pouches