t impressions in his mind. He had no
guess as to where this stranger, now taking some of the burden of the
wounded merman from him, had sprung from. The other's clothing, the
helmet covering his head were more akin to those worn by the aliens
than they were to the dress of the colonist. Yet the man beneath those
trappings was of the same breed as his own people. And he could not
believe he was a Peaceman of Pax--all he had done here spoke against
those legends of dark Terran days Dalgard had heard from childhood.
But where had he come from? The only answer could be another outlaw
colony ship.

"We are in the inner ways," Dalgard tried to reach the mind of the
merman as they pounded on into the corridors which led from the arena.
"Do you know these--" He had a faint hope that the sea man because of
his longer captivity might have a route of escape to suggest.

"--down to the lower levels--" the thought came slowly, forced out by
a weakening will. "Lower--levels--roads to the sea--"

That was what Dalgard had been hoping for, some passage which would
run seaward and so to safety, such as he had found with Sssuri in that
other city.

"What are we hunting?" the stranger broke in, and Dalgard realized
that perhaps the other did not follow the mind talk. His words had an
odd inflection, a clipped accent which was new.

"A lower way," he returned in the speech of his own people.

"To the right." The merman, struggling against his own weakness, had
raised his head and was looking about as one who searches for a
familiar landmark.

There was a branching way to the right, and Dalgard swung into it,
bringing the other two after him. This was a narrow passage, and twice
they brushed by sealed doors. It brought them up against a blank wall.
The stranger wheeled, his odd weapon ready, for they could hear the
shouts of pursuers behind them. But the merman pulled free of Dalgard
and went down on the floor to dig with his taloned fingers at some
depressions there.

"Open here," the thought came clearly, "then down!"

Dalgard went down on one knee, able now to see the outline of a trap
door. It must be pried up. His sword-knife was gone, the spear they
had given him for the arena he had dropped when he dragged the merman
out of danger. He looked to the stranger. About the other's narrow
hips was slung a belt from which hung pouches and tools the primitive
colonist could not evaluate. But there was also a bush knife, and he
re