"Paralysis gas!" he thought and wheeled toward Bemmelman, almost lost his balance as he did so.
The planter's head had dropped on his chest. He raised it groggily, leered with triumph at Cosmo. "Concealed tubes," he muttered. "Every room."
Cosmo swayed. He fumbled at his pocket. His hand emerged with the dart gun. He strained to elevate the gun, send a poisoned needle into the slave breeder. His muscles refused to obey him. The gun sagged. His knees sagged. Then slowly, he toppled sideways.
VII
Cosmo opened his eyes in the office with the glassite desk. He sat up. Chains rattled. He realized with chagrin that he was manacled hand and foot.
Bemmelman was on the sofa. A serf, directed by the slave girl, Llana, was working over him. Mia and the Blue Venus were stretched out on the floor beside him, still unconscious. Both of them were manacled. Two Blue giants watched incuriously.
In a moment, Bemmelman stirred. He sat up, swung his feet to the floor. His eyes lit on Cosmo. With a grunt he crossed the room, kicked the manacled man in the ribs.
Cosmo's face hardened, but he didn't say anything.
The planter swung on his servitors, barked: "Get out!" They left the room, all except Llana. He turned back to Cosmo, said: "I'm through playing around with you. Yes sir. Where's the Ormoo's feeding ground?"