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Updated: May 24, 2025
If they wondered at the appearance of these ragged, scarred and bewhiskered men; at sweat and blood-covered giant Tolto; the obviously high-bred girl in the laboring man's garments, they wisely refrained from comment or action, in deference to the neuros with which the party was bristling. Once inside and safely in the air, they had time to breathe.
"Before they think it's safe to come after us!" He led the way, the giant after him, carrying his club and a huge rock fragment. Sime saw a cautious peering head, and that Martian died instantly. Then they were around the bend and in the middle of a fight. Sime deflected a hand that held a pistol, and its beam killed another Martian who was about to let Tolto have it at close range.
"Listen, big one," he said placatingly. "Have an orange?" Tolto refused the gift, although he knew this rare and luscious importation from the Earth and was very fond of it. "Once more I ask you, bug, where is she?" "Aw, now, listen!" the cook whined. "Don't blame me! I'm only a servant around here. How can I help what they do? Don't glare at me so. Well, she's at Tarog."
"Are you really as dumb as that?" the cook marveled. "Why, sonny boy, the princess couldn't even hear you! Don't you know where you're goin'?" Vague alarm began to creep over Tolto. "Where is she?" he asked anxiously. "Isn't she in this ship? Princess Sira never goes anywhere without Tolto. Ask her. Ask anybody."
"Whoever's here, if he or they are dangerous, we won't get close enough to touch 'em with a sword." Tolto took the weapon without a word. They locked the door of the ship. Men have been marooned for neglecting that little precaution. They walked in a spiral course, making an ever-widening circle, looking sharply from left to right. Presently they came to the remains of the fire.
The exercise was loosening up his cramped muscles, and the shaky feeling due to the reflected beams of the neuro-pistols was leaving him. Tolto had smashed down the light-wands as they fought their way down the steps, so that now they were in almost complete darkness. One could still see the occasional rise and fall of a glinting sword and the dark shadow of an arm or head.
Despite his nausea, Wasil looked happy. "Wilcox tried for me, but I dodged back of those frames. So he tried for me with the neuro. The mob was getting wild outside; there was " He could not finish. There was an explosion that shook the building to its foundations. Tolto came running in. Sira close after him: "Joro is coming. Joro has detonated the warships. The hall guards have surrendered.
The Martians, were putting up a game battle. They were heirs to the traditions and the spirit of Earth's best fighting men. Science had given them deadly and powerful weapons that could kill over long distances, but they preferred to get close to their adversaries. But Tolto was a Martian too. He had seized a sword from a dying hand and was wielding it with aptitude and power.
It was some moments before he saw the unconscious figure of a man lying on the very edge of the lofty tower on which he was standing a man naked and blackened. He was lying on his face, one arm and one foot hanging over space as though he had fallen unconscious at the very edge of the abyss. Tolto collected his excited wits. This, at least was no enemy. His enemies were in power here.
But his great body absorbed the weapon's energy to such an extent that he was not killed at once. His flailing arms continued their arc, and one end of chain, whistling through the air, struck the weapon from the officer's hand. Tolto stumbled, recovered. He picked up the pistol and stuck it in his chain belt. His impulse was to rend, to crush with his hands.
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