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We will give them what they need most, without them having to risk getting killed. In space, there'll have to be a lot of things forgotten, but not for you or for the rough old-timers with you... Come on, you guys out there. There's a folded bubb right here waiting for each of you. Take it anywhere you want away from here, of course... Parnay big, important Belt Parnay are you still alive...?"
So now there was a halt in the firing, and another component of fear was applied. It was a growling, taunting voice. "Nelsen! And all of you silly bladder-brains...! This is Belt Parnay...! Ever hear of him? Come back from hell, eh? Not with just rocks, this time! The latest, surest equipment! Want to give up, now, Nelsen you and your nice, civilized people? Cripes, what will you cranks try next?
Ionic drives functioned. The cluster of bubbs began to scatter further. Nelsen knew that if Igor had told the truth, the outlook was very poor. Too much deployment would thin the defenses too much. And against new, homing rockets if Parnay really had them it would be almost useless.
"Igor a friend named Tiflin wouldn't be being around some place, would he?" The large space comedian didn't even hesitate. "I am thinking not very far not knowing precisely. Somebody more is being here, likewise. Belt Parnay. You are knowing this one? Plenty Jollies new fellas not having much supplies only many new rocket launchers they are receiving from someplace. You are understanding this?
Nelsen had his own sneering tone of mockery. He used it to best advantage but with fear in his heart. Plenty of his act was only counter-bluff. But now, as he paused, he heard Two-and-Two Baines' mournful voice continue the barrage of persuasion. "Flowers, Parnay? We ain't got many, yet.
There was another name and face; but as far as could be told, the personality was very similar. It was as if, out of the darker side of human nature, a kind of reincarnation would always take place. They didn't get Parnay. Inevitably, considering the enormity of space, many of the despoilers of Pallastown escaped.
Some new guys are in your crowd, I hear? Then they won't have much against them they aren't real outlaws. Do you think they want to keep following you around, stinking in their armor when what we've got is what they're bound to want, right now, too? They can hear what I'm saying, Parnay. Every one of them must have a weapon in his hands. Why, you stupid clown, you're in a trap!
The shrewdest, the most experienced, the most willing to shout and lead and let others do the dangerous work, had the advantage. For they also knew how to run and hide and be prudently quiet. Parnay was one of these. Some captives were recovered. Others were found, murdered. Fortunately, Pallastown was still largely a man's city. But pursuit and revenge still went on... Post One was intact.
The shreds of their bodies and the loot they had been carrying were scattered to drift in the vacuum, adding another picture of retribution to thousands like it. Belt Parnay was the name of the leader whom everybody really wanted to get. Belt Parnay another Fessler, another Fanshaw. That was a curious thing.
Nelsen heard Parnay roar commands and curses that might have awed many a man. But then there was a cluster of minute sparks in the distance, as rockets, not launched by the defenders, homed and exploded. There was a pause. Then many voices were audible, shouting at the same time, with scarcely any words clear... Several minutes passed like that. Then there was almost silence.
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