uts and bruises, but no serious
casualties. Why, we might have all been killed."

"Lucky, she says! We're marooned here. Marooned--with a killer."

Before the widow Moriarity could defend her choice of words, if she was
going to defend them, House Bartock came into the rear lounge, where the
entire symphony and its chaperone was located. They would have locked
the door, of course; they had locked it ever since they had learned who
Bartock was. But the door, buckled and broken, had been one of the
casualties of the crash-landing.

"You," Bartock said.

He meant Jane Cummings.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. We're going outside."

"Out--side?"

"That's what I said. Let's get a move on."

Jane Cummings didn't move.

The widow Moriarity came between her and Bartock. "If you must take
anyone, take me," she said bravely.

"The girl."

Still the widow Moriarity didn't move.

House Bartock balled his fist and hit her. Three of the girls caught her
as she fell. None of them tried to do anything about Bartock, who had
levelled his blaster at Jane Cummings.

Trembling, she went down the companionway with him.

A fierce cold wind blew as they opened the airlock door.

* * * * *

It looked like a sea-serpent floundering in the snow.

Only, it was caught in the act of floundering, like an excellent candid
shot of a sea-serpent floundering in snow.

Its movements were too slow for Mayhem's eyes to register.

Which meant, he realized gratefully, that he hadn't begun to slow down
yet.

He had to be careful, though. If he were Bartock he would make
immediately for the scout-ship. It would be his only hope.

Realizing this, Mayhem had gone through deep snow for what he judged to
be fifteen minutes, until he had reached a spine of rock protruding from
the snow. Then he had doubled back, now leaving no footprints, along the
spine. He was waiting in the first low range of hills not four hundred
yards from the scout-ship, his blaster ready. When Bartock prowled into
view, Mayhem would shout a warning. If Bartock didn't heed it, Mayhem
would shoot him dead.

It seemed like an airtight plan.

And it would have been, except for two things. First, Bartock had a
hostage. And second, Pluto-time was beginning to act on Mayhem.

He realized this when he looked at the sea-serpent again. The long neck
moved with agonizing slowness, the great gray green bulk of the monster,
sixty feet long, shifted slo