To what purpose? No matter what happened, there was nothing he could do. He knew that.
Only—Nelva—
He never finished the thought. For abruptly, without warning, the same Kalquoi who minutes before had sent the searing charge through Dane's dazed brain blazed again—a great flash, orange and white and turquoise. The thought smashed in, so violent that even at this distance—even though it was directed at Nelva—the impact made Dane's head reel: She-creature, you close your brain to us! You hold back like the others! You want no peace—
Nelva's scream came like an agonized, overriding echo. Blindly, she staggered forward, clutching her head between her hands.
But the Kalquoi gave no heed. As if the girl were not there, he deluged the whole area with a raging, searing, tidal wave of energy.
Nelva sagged to her knees. Her cry was the keening of a soul in torment.
It was a trigger to turn a man to utter madness. Spasmodically, Dane started forward.
But there was no way to reach the girl, and in his heart he knew it. Too many Kalquoi, too many light-beams, stood ranged between him and her.
But the shining needle, the Sandoz Shaft—it was relatively unprotected for the moment—
Spinning, Dane dived towards it—low, beneath the level at which his captors hovered.