The anger of Shannach flooded through Trevor, and he raged and struggled, and it was useless. Strips of hide secured his arms and they were dragging him on down out of the mountains, and he could not obey. He could not!
And then he felt the anger of Shannach ebb away into a terrible hopelessness. Trevor felt his own consciousness going, and he went into the darkness bearing in his mind, the echo of that last bitter cry,
"I am old—too old...."
VIII
Trevor awakened slowly, rising above the dark sea of oblivion only to sink again, conscious in those brief intervals that he lay in a bed and that his head ached.
There came a time when he rose, not to sink again. After a while his eyes opened, and he saw a metal ceiling.
"We made it," he said.
"Yes, you made it," said a friendly voice. "This is Solar City. You've been here quite a while."
Trevor turned his head to the voice, to the white-jacketed doctor beside his bed. But he didn't see the man or the room. Not at first. He saw only, upon the bedside table in a tray, a tawny eye that winked and glittered at him.