to advantage. Kemmer _had_ to have a vulnerable point.

He did.

There was a spot on the inner lining of the radial vein in Kemmer's left
arm. He had recently received an inoculation, one of the constant
immunizing injections that were necessary on Antar, for there was a
small thrombus clinging to the needle puncture on the inner wall of the
vessel. Normally it was unimportant and would pass away in time and be
absorbed, but there were considerable possibilities for trouble in that
little blob of red cells and fibrin if they could be loosened from their
attachment to the wall.

Hopefully, Albert reached out. If he couldn't move himself, perhaps he
could move the clot.

The thrombus stirred and came free, rushing toward Kemmer's heart.
Albert followed it, watching as it passed into the pulmonary artery,
tracing it out through the smaller vessels until it stopped squarely
across a junction of two arterioles.

Kemmer coughed, his face whitening with pain as he clutched at his
chest. The pain was a mild repayment for his recent agony, Albert
thought grimly. A pulmonary embolism shouldn't kill him, but the effects
were disproportionate to the cause and would last a while. He grinned
mercilessly as Kemmer collapsed.

A man darted from behind the chair and bent over Kemmer. Fumbling in his
haste, he produced a pocket communicator, stabbed frantically at the
dial and spoke urgently into it. "Medic! Boss's office--hurry!"

[Illustration]

For a second, Albert didn't realize that the hum of machinery behind him
had stopped, but when he did, both Albert and the chair vanished.

The Zark realized that its host had been hurt again. It was infuriating
to be so helpless. Things kept happening to Albert which it couldn't
correct until too late. There were forces involved that it didn't know
how to handle; they were entirely outside the Zark's experience. It only
felt relief when Albert managed to regain his ability to move--and, as
it looked out upon the familiar green Antarian countryside, it felt
almost happy. Of course Albert was probably still in trouble, but it
wasn't so bad now. At least the man was away from the cause of his pain.

* * * * *

It was a hell of a note, Albert reflected, sitting beside the road that
led to Lagash and working upon the bonds that tied him to the chair. He
had managed to get out of Kemmer's hands, but it appeared probable that
he would get no farther. As th