"It will be a touchy job getting this ship off the ground," Mike said.
Nicko grinned hideously. "Want to stop and throw a few tons overboard?"
"There's no time or believe me, I would. Let's get to the control cabin.
It was the one cabin in which no wealth was stored. In the place of jewels and bar-gold there was something else. It seemed McKee and Talbott had not been as negligent of their hoard as it had first appeared.
The half-dozen native guards in the control room allowed the four to enter, standing close against the near wall. Then they fell upon them. Taken by surprise and attacked by a greater number, the fugitives had no chance. The H'Lorkan warrior, last into the room, fought bravely, but when the lights were turned on, the prisoners had been swiftly cuffed and subdued.
Doree had been jerked cruelly from Mike's arms and he saw a tall native warrior just disappearing through the door carrying her in his arms.
Mike's shoulders slumped as he tasted the bitter dregs of defeat....
They were led through the city streets under heavy guard, streets brightly illuminated by myriad glowing balls. The populace eyed them curiously, their importance evidently indicated by the escort of a dozen grim soldiers.
Only Mike and Nicko and M'Landa took the long walk up the avenue, Doree having been spirited away. Mike was a man in deep torment as he wondered helplessly about her fate. Was she already dead? Had she been made the plaything of some high official? Of McKee or Talbott or both? This last thought brought red rage flashing into his heart.