"Then let's go."
But they had waited too long. The door opened and four Martian guards entered. They almost filled the room. Tommy hurled himself at the closest one but was knocked viciously back against the wall. It seemed that fate had deserted him at last.
The Martian in charge, one who stood a head taller than the other three, grasped Helen roughly by the arm. He seemed infuriated at finding her dressed. He threw her roughly after Tommy and she too fell to the floor.
The Martian stood there, undecided, some problem evidently occupying his mind. The three subordinates waited in silence. After a few moments, the leader turned and barked several sharp commands.
The orders puzzled the three Martians. They stood where they were until the leader barked another sharper order. Then they turned and filed out.
The leader stood motionless until their footsteps died in the corridor. Then he bent swiftly and lifted Helen Spencer to her feet.
As she cringed away, he said, "I am Maxis, a dictor in the Emperor's guard. I think perhaps you can help me. If so, I may be able to help you."
"You—you're speaking Terran," Helen said.
"Of course. Many of us know your language." He pointed to Tommy. "Who is this one?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure he has hurt none of you. Please let him go free."