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Updated: June 3, 2025
Friendless was the great world's blaster; And feeling this, he made the spirit world Blessed mirrors of his own blessedness! And though the Highest found no equal, Yet infinitude foams upward unto Him From the vast basin of creation's realm.
"Since you talk of fear, you shall go with us, and see who's afraid!" cried the formidable blaster, and in a thundering voice, he advanced towards Morok. A number of voices joined in with, "Who says the Wolves are afraid of the Devourers?" "It would be the first time!" "Battle! battle! and make an end of it!" "We are tired of all this. Why should we be so miserable, and they so well off?"
Shann waited in a half-crouch, his looted blaster covering the man now getting to his feet. There was no mistaking the familiar uniform, or even the man. How Ragnar Thorvald had reached that particular spot on Warlock or why, Shann could not know. But that he was there, there was no denying. Shann hurried forward.
He stopped the vehicle and jumped off, plunging into the brush and racing toward the hollow tree. Just as he reached it, he heard a vehicle approach and stop, and the door of the police vehicle slam. Hradzka's fingers found the belt of his blaster; he dragged it out and buckled it on, tossing away the missile weapon he had been carrying. Then, crouching behind the tree, he waited.
"Report to the Simonidean Embassy and put yourself at the disposal of Hector Abrams, First Secretary to the Simonidean Prime Minister. But first, hang this stuff on you. This dress sword is a little unusual the scabbard is rounder than yours, but not noticeably so. It's really a blaster; the trigger is here on the handle as you grasp it.
If so, such a stowaway would be in the sleeping cabin now, waiting for Calhoun to walk in unsuspiciously, only to be shot dead. So Calhoun made coffee. He slipped a blaster into a pocket where it would be handy. He filled a small cup for Murgatroyd and a large one for himself, and then a second large one. He tapped on the sleeping cabin door, standing aside lest a blaster-bolt come through it.
Corina reached up and touched the spot. "I forgot, and I have had no chance to wash it off before now. Excuse me for a moment, please." She left, returning with her throat fur damp but clean, to face a thorough scrutiny by the young Ensign. Sunbeam nodded at last. "And that's a blaster burn "
"Use the blaster, even though it couldn't do much damage. I let her have one right in the eye!" Astro shook his head and laughed. "You should have seen her pull her head out of that cave! I couldn't sleep for months after that. I used to dream that she was sticking her head in my window, always getting closer." "Did the blaster do any damage at all?" asked Sinclair. "Oh, yes, sir," said Astro.
The Khatkan did not have time to rise from his knees as the barrel of the fire rod struck his head, sending him spinning. Then the drum was cradled in the spaceman's arm, close to his chest, his weapon aimed across it at the startled natives. The crackle of blaster fire, the shrill whine of needlers in action, raised a bedlam from the other end of the camp.
A blaster, of Herculean strength and stature, with an old red handkerchief about his head, its ragged ends streaming over his shoulders, miserably dressed in a half-worn goat-skin, brandished an iron drilling-rod, and appeared to direct the movements.
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