"—Is a fraud, pure and simple. It has no effect at all on mutation. For that matter"—once more, Krobis chuckled—"our tests show that the mutation itself brings new mental powers, not loss of old ones. But a contrary report could bring panic, help to break our opponents. So...." He shrugged.
It was a world out of nightmare, a moment to madden.
"Damn you, Krobis!" Boone choked. "Damn you!"
He flung himself forward, then, heedless of weakness, and the guards, and the weapons.
If only his hands could reach Krobis' throat, rend it—!
But a clubbed blaster hit him. He sprawled to the floor-plates. Krobis' laugh rang out above him, harsh and vindictive. Death's chill fingers touched him.
Only then, in the shadows where Lor lay, his eyes caught strange movement—a slithering, a rustling, a swirling of vapors.
Numbly, he wondered....
But guards seized his arms and dragged him up roughly. Martin Krobis spat, "Kill him!" and bloodied his cheekbone.
The guards jerked him backwards, stumbling and reeling.