On Narla.
Craig whipped his own saucer higher, and then higher.
A man in high-fronted metal helmet rode the second disc, the one that was gliding down towards the girl. While Craig watched, he swung out his long black djevoda whip ... tilted his disc till it plummeted like a speeding arrow.
Craig raced towards them.
Now Narla, too, saw the stranger. She tried to tilt her saucer.
But the man in the helmet pancaked his disc down, level ... swung the whip. The lash curled round Narla's wrist.
She jerked back in a panic. Tottered.
Then her disc tilted and she was sliding—falling—
Craig careened his own carrier down.
The stranger's head came round. He clawed for the fire-gun in his belt-holster.