“The tetrarchs say if you’ll surrender yourself they’ll spare the rest of the humans.”
“Bluff! A miserable bluff!” Williamson had come forward blazing with indignation. His contempt at the servile gestures of the slave was mounting. “We’ll kill every tetrarch on the planet—and you with them, if you’re not careful. You can sniffle on back there and tell them that their position is hopeless.”
“But don’t you see,” the coward was almost in tears, “they’ve got the catalyst.” The tears, no longer denied, streaked down his face. “At first it would work in eight hours no matter what our age. Now, Latham Koler’s got it so it can work in five min—O-oh! I’ve been hit!”
Rod caught a quick glimpse of Latham Koler’s saturnine grin. He had appeared at the building opening for a moment and fired.
Rod couldn’t see the weapon he had used but its results were plain. A tiny dart had pierced the coward’s helmet. It protruded from the back of his neck.
Williamson plucked the dart and held it in his hand. “It doesn’t look dangerous,” he said. But Jerry had collapsed.
Rod pointed to the fallen coward. A familiar pallor was spreading over his features.
“The glow! Rod! Look at it! It’s working already!”
“It’s a stepped-up catalyst all right.” Rod was thoughtful. “That dart is really a hypo needle. Lets get to cover and see what we can do about it.”
When Rod outlined his plan Williamson was adamant. They couldn’t go through with it. He, Williamson, wasn’t going to permit it. But Rod had his way.