T hat voice, so incisive and clear, was a woman's. Gore found himself looking into the little twin funnels of his own ray projector. They were filled with a milky light, and the odor of ozone was strong. The girl had only to press the trigger and a powerful current would leap along the path of those ionizing beams. And Gore would murder no more.
Stupidly, he let Sorko slide to the floor, where the poor fellow recovered sufficiently from his paralyzing fright and his fall to scuttle away.
Looking past the menacing weapon, Gore saw the girl, Lenore Hyde. Her limpid eyes under their straight brows were blazing, and he read in them certain death for himself.
"Up that ladder!" she ordered sharply, "and stay out! Guard, when this beast is gone I will give you this weapon. Now, connect up your skipper."
Too surprised to disobey, the guard threw the televisor switch, and in a moment Strom's stern face appeared on the screen. He comprehended the situation immediately.
"Do as she says," he ordered brusquely. "Stoddard is coming to take care of that man of hers that Gore beat up."
A few minutes later she was tearfully assisting the ship's doctor to put the man with the dislocated shoulders on a stretcher.
"Your husband?" asked Stoddard, who resembled a starved gray rat.
"My brother," she exclaimed simply.
"Want to take care of him?" And at her eager assent, he said, "Can't afford to let him die. Your family got money?"