The Earthmen took these suns with them across the voids, to planets like Lyallar, and strung them in their deepest chasms. And where went the suns, they were objects of dread and awe.
This one was no object of dread to Tyr.
Standing on the lip of rock, he laughed and raised his arms, and felt that titanic heat and energy flow directly into him. Tyr had no need for carborungsten cables to power the dynamo of his body. The follicles of his skin opened their hungry mouths and sucked that energy into him.
Tyr was changing, standing there.
He was becoming energy itself, every pore and organ of him filling to capacity with the heat and light of that glowing orb. He was charged to bursting.
Tyr turned to the jagged stone wall, and began to climb.
A gallows stood in the Square of Dying, lifting its black arms toward a blue sky. From the crosspiece hung plasticine nooses, like silvery webs. Men and one woman stood below those hoops of transparent plastic, on a raised platform.
Space Commander Mason said to Katha, "You realize now that your man-god Tyr is nothing compared to the ardth?"
"Tyr is the only hope the ardth have," she whispered. "I have told you his father was William Rohrig."