"Your life is in my hands," he said. "You don't know what moment will see your own feet carrying you to your death. Come, pursue me, brave Barak, stupid Barak. Let your last thought be this—your death helps me immeasurably."
"You're lying," I said again, and he laughed again.
"Reflect. Let your thick skull filter these facts. I shall destroy you. To my followers I will be a hero. Your own Newcomers will pause and wonder. I can re-order my defenses, and most of the planted mines will remain to check any advance—"
Forgetting all caution, all planning, I charged him. He turned and ran like Dondromogon's outer winds.
But I had taken no more than half a dozen steps in pursuit when all the thunders and lightnings of the universe seemed to burst around me.
I fell, swiftly and deeply, into black nothingness.
I was able to establish which way was up, which down, and that I lay horizontally, as if floating in liquid or upon clouds. My ears hummed a trifle, and a voice spoke.
"He will be all right."
Dr. Thorald! I opened my eyes, and they were blurred. I lifted a hand to them, and moaned despite myself.