Barry bent over the girl and realized with a start that she was different.
Her skin was a strange blue-brown. Her features were delicate, intelligent, very different from the savage faces of the males he had battled. Her dark hair grew further down the back of her neck than was customary on Earth, forming a short, silky mane between her shoulder blades.
She was slender of body, except that the muscles running down her sides from armpit to waist were amazingly well developed. Her high-set, compactly pointed breasts were uncovered, and he could see that any sort of upper clothing would interfere with full use of those unusual swimming muscles. Her skirt was short and close-fitting.
Her eyes, though, were filled with hatred, defiance, terror.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, hoping his tone would convey the meaning.
She seemed more puzzled than grateful as he slid the knife gently between her ankles to sever the binding cords, and she shrank under his touch as he rolled her over to reach her wrists.
"There you are," he said, and started to straighten up.
Something struck him from above and many hands clutched at him. Within seconds he was flat in the mud. Two Venusians held each arm and leg.
Another stood over him with spear poised.
But the girl shouted and grasped the spearman's arm.