"Because you ... run things ... so long as there's trouble ... with the Kalquoi. But if peace comes ... you'll be just another man."
"Correct." Jessup's hairless face set in a death's-head grin. "And now, to get on to the business at hand...."
He moved towards Nelva. Face chalky with fear, she stumbled backward, behind Dane, out of his view.
Again Dane strained. Again he failed.
Was it true, then? Was he really Jessup's slave?
Numb, aching, he prayed for some power to break the deep-conditioned trance into which Jessup's cue-words had thrown him.
Behind him, then, Jessup said something too low to catch. A blow thudded.
Like an echo, Nelva screamed.
Dane never knew what happened in that moment.
Yet within him, it was as if some tight-confining band had snapped. The new stimulus overrode the old. Whirling, leaping over Nelva's crumpled form, Dane threw himself bodily at Jessup.