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One of the detectives helped him on with his metal and plastic armor; before sealing his gauntlets, he reciprocated the assistance, then checked the needler and blaster and the long batonlike ultrasonic paralyzer on his belt and made sure that the radio and sound-phones in his helmet were working.
And he did not front Thorvald. Shann was caught up in the ice grip of an old fear, frozen by it, but somehow clinging to a hope that he did not see the unbelievable. Those hands drawing the lash of a whip back into striking readiness ... a brutal nose broken askew, a blaster burn puckering across cheek to misshapen ear ... that, evil, gloating grin of anticipation.
"The big blaster did it all," said another; "the true Wolves wash their hands of him. We shall soon settle his account." "We may fight every day but we ought to esteem each other." Some of these wretches, still further excited by the little man with the ferret's face, a secret emissary of Baron Tripeaud, now rushed in a mass towards the workshops of M. Hardy. Then began a lamentable devastation.
The dead monster would be more than he would care to tackle without a blaster. And yet it was dead, with a smashed spear for evidence as to the manner of killing. All those others dead in the arena, too. How large a party had invaded the city? Where were they now? "I'd like to know," he was speaking more to himself than to the com-tech, "how they did do it. No other bodies "
The handcuffs fell from the "prisoner's" wrists; he jerked a neutron-disruption blaster from under his jacket. Vall, his needler already drawn, rayed the fellow dead before he could aim it, then saw that the two pseudo-policemen had drawn their needlers and were aiming in the direction of Salgath Trod.
"We don't take that away from here." Thorvald made the weapon his with a quick twist. To Shann's utter astonishment, the Survey officer walked back to kneel beside the dead Throg. He worked the grip of the blaster under the alien's lax claws and inspected the result with the care of one arranging a special and highly important display. Shann's protest became vocal. "We'll need that!"
There was a rustling, faint but distinguishable. Then Dane caught Nymani's whisper. "The one left to watch the inland trail does so no longer. We need not fear an alarm from him. Also, here is another blaster for our use." Away from the open by the swamp, the gloom was deeper. Dane was guided only by the noises of the less-experienced Jellico and Tau made in their progress.
By that time the Traiti was going for Tarlac, claws raking air toward the man's face. Trained reflexes had taken over then. Rangers might not be experts in one-on-one combat, but they could make a creditable showing; Tarlac had done a tuck-and-roll, bringing his blaster out to save his own life by a fraction of a second as he fired pointblank, killing the Traiti.
A third bolt went overhead, then the Sanctioner returned the blaster to his belt and called to her. "You have made it to Imperial territory, Losinj, but you are not safe yet! Even if you manage to get past Entos and into the Palace, we can have you extradited as a common criminal, for assaulting a Sanctioner. Think about that!"
At the head of the troop advanced the gigantic blaster, brandishing his formidable bar, followed by a motley mass, armed with sticks and stones. Their heads still warmed by their recent libations of brandy, they had now attained a frightful state of frenzy. Their countenances were ferocious, inflamed, terrible.
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