His soul was bitter within him. He had but one chance left, a wild and improbable chance, but he mustn't miss! It was hours later when he again heard footsteps overhead. He threw himself to the floor, pretended to be asleep. The electro was in his hand, carefully concealed beneath him.
As he thought, it was a Guard bringing him food. From lowered lids he saw the ceiling trap slide back—slowly at first, then wider. The Guard leaned over, concentrated on lowering the platter of food on a long cord. When it had almost touched the floor, Ketrik brought out his hand and fired. It was simple as that. The man's body toppled through the opening, made a dull thud on the floor below.
So far so good, Ketrik thought grimly. He bunched the dead man's limbs under him, stood upon the sagging shoulders and leaped for the opening. A moment later he was swinging his body up and through.
He was in a dim, carpeted corridor, probably part of the servants' quarters. He hurried softly past a row of doors to the end of the hall, then up a short flight of stairs. A heavy door faced him. He pushed it open cautiously, then stepped out into a small flower garden. It was night, but Phobos was making a brilliant path across the sky. Unfortunate. But he'd have to make the best of it now.
He hugged the shadows until he got his bearings. This was the rear of the palace, he realized; at least that was lucky, for it brought him closer to that glass-domed building which he was sure was Vaajo's laboratory. It should be somewhere to the left of here.
Swiftly he crossed the garden. He passed through a tall hedge which concealed him from the palace. He followed the shadow of it all the way to the left, until he came in sight of the laboratory building. It was lying only fifty yards away—but fifty yards drenched in Phobos' glow!
He hesitated. But there was no other way. He started across the space leisurely, remembering he was still "Martian." The building was dark, there seemed to be no Guards about.
He was wrong in the latter surmise, he learned when he had almost reached the building. A voice challenged him. Almost in the same instant he saw the man, deep in the shadow of an arched doorway. Ketrik veered toward him, grunted something in reply and raised a hand in casual greeting. The Guard hesitated. Ketrik came two steps nearer. The Guard dropped a hand to his gun, and Ketrik hurled himself forward—low and hard.
The impact carried the Guard backward. Their combined weight crashed into a door, nearly taking it from the hinges. Ketrik rose quickly but the Guard didn't rise at all, and Ketrik knew his luck was still with him.
He changed his mind a second later. He heard shouts and pounding feet. Guards were all about the place, probably stationed at each of the doors! For a split second Ketrik hesitated. The only way now, was in.