everything is
correct and that your rights are in no way being violated."

"Leave here? After sundown, you mean."

Mr. Frendlyer shook his head and smiled sadly. "I'm afraid not.
According to the law, you must leave here at once."

"But they'll kill me!"

"That's very true," Frendlyer said. "Unfortunately, it can't be helped.
A victim, by definition, is one who is to be killed."

"I thought this was a protective organization."

"It is. But we protect _rights_, not victims. Your rights are not being
violated. The Hadjis have the privilege of killing you on Landing Day,
at any time before sundown, if you are not in your barracks area. You, I
might add, have the right to kill anyone who tries to kill you."

"I don't have a weapon," Barrent said.

"Victims never do," Frendlyer said. "It makes all the difference,
doesn't it? But weapon or not, I'm afraid you'll have to leave now."

Barrent could still hear the Hadjis' lazy voices in the street. He
asked, "Have you a rear door?"

"Sorry."

"Then I'll simply not leave."

Still smiling, Mr. Frendlyer opened a drawer and took out a gun. He
pointed it at Barrent, and said, "You really must leave. You can take
your chances with the Hadjis, or you can die right here with no chance
at all."

"Lend me your gun," Barrent said.

"It isn't allowed," Frendlyer told him. "Can't have victims running
around with weapons, you know. It would upset things." He clicked off
the safety. "Are you leaving?"

Barrent calculated his chances of diving across the desk for the gun,
and decided he would never make it. He turned and walked slowly to the
door. The ragged men were still laughing together. The dark-haired girl
had risen from the bench and was standing near the doorway. As he came
close to her, Barrent noticed that she was very lovely. He wondered what
crime had dictated her expulsion from Earth.

As he passed her, he felt something hard pressed into his ribs. He
reached for it, and found he was holding a small, efficient-looking gun.

"Luck," the girl said. "I hope you know how to use it."

Barrent nodded his thanks. He wasn't sure he knew how; but he was going
to find out.

Chapter Four

The street was deserted except for the three Hadjis, who stood about
twenty yards away, conversing quietly. As Barrent came through the
doorway, two of the men moved back; the third, his sidearm negligently
lowered, stepped forward. When he saw that Barrent was armed he qu