Retch spun to face the menace coming from behind him. The gun in his hands spat flame and fury.
He had destroyed the Jezbro hawk. He would also destroy this Jezbro puma.
The puma dropped the man from its jaws. It crouched. It leaped straight at the gun spouting lead. Retch slid to one side. The puma missed. It hit the floor, slid, tried to turn as a frantic girl moved buttons on the key board.
The floor was slick, the padded feet did not grip. The tail of the sliding puma touched the pool of mercury. The tail smoked as if it was suddenly on fire.
The puma screamed. It seemed to be drawn into the pool. It was as if something in the pool caught the puma, held it, pulled it into the mercury.
It went out of sight, vanished. No puff of flame followed. The life that had animated it had come from this pool. Now the life had returned to its source.
The dazed Retch lowered his smoking gun.
Parker moved silently forward.
"Lay down the gun, Johnny Retch!" he said.
Retch seemed to stiffen. His back was to Parker. He did not attempt to turn.