He set the master oscillator running in his ship and then put the field-locator in his pocket. No matter where he went, he could return to his own craft, at least. Then he stepped out of his flier to inspect the damage.
A roaring went up that attracted Cal's attention. He turned, and started to beat through the swamp towards the noise.
Light caught his eyes, and he came upon the burning wreckage of Benj's flier. Benj was paying no attention to the burning mass behind him, nor was he interested in Tinker Elliott. He was working over Cal's original equipment furiously, plying tools deftly and making swift tests as he worked.
Tinker was struggling across the ground of the swamp, pulling herself along with her hands. Her hips and legs were following limply as though they had not a bit of life. Her face was strained with the effort, though she seemed to be in no pain.
She saw him, and inadvertently cried: "Cal!"
Benj leaped to his feet, his hand swinging one of the three-foot welding irons. He saw Cal, and with his other hand he whipped out the needle beam and fired. The beam seared the air beside Cal's thigh. Cursing Benj tried again, but nothing came from the beam. He hurled the useless weapon into the swamp and came forward in a crouch, waving the welding iron before him.
Cal ducked the first swing and caught Benj in the face with a fist. It hurtled Benj back, but he came forward again, waving the white-hot, needle-sharp iron before him.
Cal couldn't face that unarmed. He dropped below the thrust, and his hand fastened on the matching iron to the pair that went in every flier repair-kit. He flung himself back, and came up in a crouch as his thumb found the switch that heated his own point.
Silently, their feet making soggy sounds in the swamp, Cal and Benj crossed points in a guard of hatred.