The Prowler whirled from the shattered ship.
Almost playfully the Prowler minced away from the ship, feet dancing.
"He did it!" said Meek.
"Did what?" Stiffy scowled bewilderedly.
"Got away from that ship, just like you told him to."
Stiffy snorted. "Don't ever kid yourself he did it because I told him to. He couldn't even hear me, probably. Living out here like this, he wouldn't have anything to hear with. Probably he's just trying to decide which one of us he'll catch first. Better be ready to kick you up some dust."
The Prowler trotted toward them, head bobbing up and down.
"Get going," Stiffy yelled at Meek and brought up his pistol. A blue shaft of light whipped out, smacked the Prowler in the head, but the Prowler didn't even falter in his stride. The energy charge seemed to have no power at all. It didn't even spatter ... it looked as if the blue pencil of raging death was boring straight into the spread of forehead between the monstrous eyes.
"Run, you danged fool," Stiffy screeched at Meek. "I can't hold him off."