"Call the Fleet commander," Santane ordered brusquely. "Tell him he must land and place himself at my orders."
Such a call would be ignored. Aram knew that....
"Hurry!" Santane demanded pettishly.
Still Aram could bring himself to no decision.
Santane turned, took a stoppered vial from a cabinet and faced Aram again with a scowl. "One drop of this on the skin, and a human being becomes ... what you saw below. Shall I use it on the woman to convince you where your duty lies?"
Aram felt his heart skip a beat. Santane was not bluffing. Pressed, he would carry out his threat from sheer perverted malice. Aram looked hungrily toward the small air-sled on the landing....
He took a step toward the radio. Very probably his voice, recognized, would brings the bombs even quicker—but there was no way to convince Santane of that. He was beyond reason.
A high pitched sound broke the stillness. Aram pitched instinctively to the floor as a bomb struck the ground far below and near the base of the skylon! The whole structure shook with the force of the concussion, the glass of the aerie fogging into a maze of tiny cracks. Fragments of the ceiling came powdering down. Santane staggered against the wall, the vial still in his hand, a look of terrified disbelief on his face.
"No!" he gasped. "They wouldn't dare...."
Aram tried to reach Deve's side, but Santane was quicker.