And as he ran, a new sound slashed through to him: the familiar keening blast of space-ship carrier craft lancing through the night.
Haral shot one swift glance upward. He glimpsed slim, silvery streaks ... streaks that were carriers in flight.
Sark's carriers—?
Haral cursed aloud. Panting, staggering with fatigue and the weight of his heavy copronium armor, he stumbled through the avenue's broken stone. Once he fell. But Kyla's ray-gun blazed above him, holding back the beetles till he could lurch up and wallow onward.
Then, at last, there was the pylon ... the yawning entrance at its base.
"Hurry!" Kyla cried. "They gain upon us!"
A Q-ray sang its shining song of death too near at hand.
The blue man threw all his strength into one last effort. Together, he and the girl ran through the entry, into the blackness.
Haral turned. He laced his back-track with the light-lance's searing beam.