against the outraged
horde from above. The priests and the guards were being torn to pieces
as though by the fangs of maddened dogs. The screams of terror and
agony were a crescendo drowning the whine of the ships overhead.

* * * * *

Professor Brandon was crouching in the far corner of the cell. A man
of peace, this place of blood and confusion was beyond his conception.
He was in a daze, his mind having thrown up a buffer against horror.

Doree's arms went around him but Mike pushed her back almost roughly.
"There is no time," he said. "We've got to get out of here." He picked
the frail Brandon up in his arms. "You take the lead, Nicko. Take my
club. It's up to you to cut a path through."

They left the cell and went out onto the balcony and discovered that
the frantic priests had at last broken through the locked doors of
their prison-pit. The ones remaining alive had fled the place with the
prisoners on their heels.

Sounds from beyond indicated that some of the frenzied prisoners had
abandoned the chase and were now stalking through the building,
killing and looting.

"Out this way," Mike directed, indicating an open doorway. "This is
the side toward the blast field."

"The passage is empty," Nicko said. "Come on."

"Watch yourself!" Mike snapped.

And it was well that Nicko did because halfway down the passage, three
of the blood-crazed prisoners leaped on him from a side passage. One
brought a club down viciously, aimed by sheer chance at the base of
Nicko's skull, the one vulnerable spot on his body. Nicko avoided the
blow and smashed the prisoner's head.

The other two landed astride Nicko. It was like jumping into a nest of
sharp knives. Ripped, bloody, screaming, they staggered away and fled.

No one else challenged the right of way and Nicko led the party out
into the night. Overhead, the sky was bright with battle and here and
there about the area, there were sharp skirmishes, evidently between
Baserite and Ptomenite troops. There was no way to tell which way the
battle swayed.

"Straight ahead," Mike ordered. "Skirt the wall of that building."

They reached the field, ran across the last open area and faded in
among the ships. Mike smiled grimly as he saw the dark, unlighted
outline of the Terran space craft. They had beaten McKee and Talbott!
Perhaps the two scoundrels had been slain. "Up the ramp, quick!" Mike
directed.

* * * *