This was a slaughter of helpless innocents. The Martians were unprotected, incapable of defending themselves. And they had done nothing wrong.
"Stop!" The voice of Malovar was like thunder rolling through the arena. He spoke in Martian but there was no mistaking his meaning. He dropped the sword, took back his metal rod that was part of the regalia of his office, held it erect. In that moment he was like a tribal god ordering the lightning and the thunder.
The answer, coming from above, was a slug that whistled within inches of Malovar's head and exploded behind him.
"For the last time, stop!"
Another slug howled downward.
Then Malovar acted.
Larkin was not quite certain what happened but out from the tip of the metal staff that Malovar held seemed to flash a bolt of blinding radiance. It was not a thunderbolt, it was not electrical, it was probably no force known to Earth scientists.