"I don't figure I have much to lose anyway," said Birrel dryly. "Hurry up!"
When Vannevan and his men came into the broken ship they found Thile and Kara clinging quietly together, apart from the Earthman Birrel, who was strapped into a recoil chair with his hands bound tightly behind him.
CHAPTER VIII
There were six of the Irrians, counting Vannevan. They wore vac-suits and they were all armed. Two of them went immediately to Thile and Kara and searched them for weapons, but they had none. The time for resistance was past.
Another man, on Vannevan's instructions, began to tear open the lockers that were still intact, looking for papers. The others stood guard. They handled themselves easily, experts at null gravity.
Birrel looked at Vannevan and said sourly, "Out of the frying pan into the fire. I don't know which of you is worse."
Vannevan's eyes were bright, cruel, competent and happy. Very happy. He had wiped out, and with interest, the defeat he had suffered at the farmhouse. He had crushed the Ruunites completely. For him, it was a good day.
He smiled at Birrel. "You see what happens to meddlers."
"I wouldn't call it meddling," Birrel said. "We caught a spy. It was natural to want to know who he was working for, and why."