by H. B. Fyfe
around did he realize that two armed Tepoktans hadmaterialized in time to follow Klaft inside.
One was a constable but the other he recognized for an officer ofsome rank. Both wore slung across their chests weapons resemblinglong-barreled pistols with large, oddly indented butts to fit Tepoktanclaws. The constable, in addition, carried a contraption with aquadruple tube for launching tiny rockets no thicker than Kinton'sthumb. These, he knew, were loaded with an explosive worthy of respecton any planet he had heard of.
To protect him, he wondered. Or to get Birken?
The pilot headed the craft back toward Kinton's town in the brighteningsky of early day. Long before the buildings of Kinton's institute cameinto view, they received a radio message about Birken.
"He has been seen on the road passing the dam," Klaft reported soberlyafter having been called to the pilot's compartment. "He stopped todemand fuel from some maintenance workers, but they had been warned andfled."
"Couldn't they have seized him?" demanded Kinton, his tone sharp withthe worry he endeavored to control. "He has that spear, I suppose; buthe is only one and injured."
Klaft hesitated.
"Well, couldn't they?"
The aide looked away, out one of the windows at some sun-dyed cloudsranging from pink to orange. He grimaced and clicked his showy teethuncomfortably.
"Perhaps they thought you might be offended, George," he answered atlast.
Kinton settled back in the seat especially padded to fit the contoursof his Terran body, and stared silently at the partition behind thepilot.
In other words, he thought, he was responsible for Birken, who was aTerran, one of his own kind. Maybe they really didn't want to riskhurting his feelings, but that was only part of it. They were leavingit up to him to handle what they considered his private affair.
He wondered what to do. He had no actual faith in the idea that Birkenwas delirious, or acting under any influence but that of a criminallyself-centered nature.
"I _shouldn't_ have told him about the ship!" Kinton muttered, gnawingthe knuckle of his left thumb. "He's on the run, all right. Probablyscared the colonial authorities will trail him right down through theDome of Eyes. Wonder what he did?"
He caught himself and looked around to see if he had been overheard.Klaft and the police officers peered from their respective windows, incalculated withdrawal. Kinton, disturbed, tried to remember whether hehad spoken in Terran or Tepoktan.
Would Birken listen if he tried reasoning, he asked himself. Maybe ifhe showed the man how they had proved the unpredictability of openingsthrough the shifting Dome of Eyes--
An exclamation from the constable drew his attention. He rose, and roomwas made for him at the opposite window.
* * * * *
In the distance, beyond the town landing field they were nowapproaching, Kinton saw a halted ground car. Across the plain which wascolored a yellowish tan by a short, grass-like growth, a lone figureplodded toward the upthrust bulk of the spaceship that had never flown.
"Never mind landing at the town!" snapped Kinton. "Go directly out tothe ship!"
Klaft relayed the command to the pilot. The helicopter swept in adescending curve across the plain toward the gleaming hull.
As they passed the man below, Birken looked up. He continued to limpalong at a brisk pace with the aid of what looked like a short spear.
"Go down!" Kinton ordered.
The pilot landed about a hundred yards from the spaceship. By the timehis passengers had alighted, however, Birken had drawn level with them,about fifty feet away.
"Birken!" shouted Kinton. "Where do you think you're going?"
Seeing that no one ran after him, Birken slowed his pace, but keptwalking toward the ship. He watched them over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Kinton," he shouted with no noticeable tone of regret. "I figureI better travel on for my health."
"It's not so damn healthy up there!" called Kinton. "I told you howthere's no clear path--"
"Yeah, yeah, you told me. That don't mean I gotta believe it."
"Wait! Don't you think they tried sending unmanned rockets up? Every onewas struck and exploded."
Birken showed no more change of expression than if the other hadcommented on the weather.
Kinton had stepped forward six or eight paces, irritated despite hisanxiety at the way Birken persisted in drifting before him.
Kinton couldn't just grab him--bad leg or not, he could probably breakthe older man in two.
He glanced back at the Tepoktans beside the helicopter, Klaft, thepilot, the officer, the constable with the rocket weapon.
They stood quietly, looking back at him.
The call for help that had risen to his lips died there.
"Not _their_ party," he muttered. He turned again to Birken, who stillretreated toward the ship. "But he'll only get himself killed _and_destroy the ship! Or if some miracle gets him through, that's worse!He's nothing to turn loose on a civilized colony again."
* * * * *
A twinge of shame tugged down the corners of his mouth as he realizedthat keeping Birken here would also expose a highly cultured people toan unscrupulous criminal who had already committed murder the very firsttime he had been crossed.
"Birken!" he shouted. "For the last time! Do you want me to send them todrag you back here?"
Birken stopped at that. He regarded the motionless Tepoktans with aderisive sneer.
"They don't look too eager to me," he taunted.
Kinton growled a Tepoktan expression the meaning of which he had deducedafter hearing it used by the dam workers.
He whirled to run toward the helicopter. Hardly had he taken two steps,however, when he saw startled changes in the carefully blank looks ofhis escort. The constable half raised his heavy weapon, and Klaft sprangforward with a hissing cry.
By the time Kinton's aging muscles obeyed his impulse to sidestep, thespear had already hurtled past. It had missed him by an error of oversix feet.
He felt his face flushing with sudden anger. Birken was running as besthe could toward the spaceship, and had covered nearly half the distance.
Kinton ran at the Tepoktans, brushing aside the concerned Klaft. Hesnatched the heavy weapon from the surprised constable.
He turned and raised it to his chest. Because of the shortness ofTepoktan arms, the launcher was constructed so that the butt restedagainst the chest with the sighting loops before the eyes. The littlerocket tubes were above head height, to prevent the handler's catchingthe blast.
The circles of the sights weaved and danced about the running figure.Kinton realized to his surprise that the effort of seizing the weaponhad him panting. Or was it the fright at having a spear thrown at him?He decided that Birken had not come close enough for that, and wonderedif he was afraid of his own impending action.
It wasn't fair, he complained to himself. The poor slob only had aspear, and a man couldn't blame him for wanting to get back to his ownsort. He was limping ... hurt ... how could they expect him torealize--?
Then, abruptly, his lips tightened to a thin line. The sights steadiedon Birken as the latter approached the foot of the ladder leading to theentrance port of the spaceship.
Kinton pressed the firing stud.
Across the hundred-yard space streaked four flaring little projectiles.Kinton, without exactly seeing each, was aware of the general lines offlight diverging gradually to bracket the figure of Birken.
One struck the ground beside the man just as he set one foot on thebottom rung of the ladder, and skittered away past one fin of the shipbefore exploding. Two others burst against the hull, scattering metalfragments, and another puffed on the upright of the ladder just aboveBirken's head.
* * * * *
The spaceman was blown back from the ladder. He balanced on his heelsfor a moment with outstretched fingers reaching toward the grips fromwhich they had been torn. Then he crumpled into
a limp huddle on theyellowing turf.
Kinton sighed.
The constable took the weapon from him, reloaded deftly, and profferedit again. When the Terran did not reach for it, the officer held out aclawed hand to receive it. He gestured silently, and the constabletrotted across the intervening ground to bend over Birken.
"He is dead," said Klaft when the constable straightened up with a curtwave.
"Will ... will you have someone see to him, please?" Kinton requested,turning toward the helicopter.
"Yes, George," said Klaft. "George...?"
"Well?"
"It would be very instructive--that is, I believe Dr. Chuxolkhee wouldlike to--"
"All right!" yielded Kinton, surprised at the harshness of his ownvoice. "Just tell him not to bring around any sketches of the variousorgans for a few