It was the girl all right. Even through the tumbled mists of his brain, he could see that she was not a dream. And as he reeled and fell against the wall, she was beside him in a flash, her arm supporting him.
At first he tried to push himself erect, his head whirling with sick dizziness, and bewilderment. Through a twisting haze, he peered up at the girl's face. It reflected a look that, amazingly, was one of—with no other phrase to do—compassion. Star half-sighed, and laid his head on the girl's breast, and closed his eyes.
In a minute or two, she said tensely, "Are you all right?" Star looked up at her.
"I guess so. Here—give a hand while I get my balance." She held him as he tried a step or two, and then he straightened. "I guess I'll be all right, now," he smiled. "My head feels like—say! How come you're doing this? What made you change your mind? And who are you?"
She said quickly, breathlessly, "I know you're Star Blade, now. That transmission set.... I can read lips! I knew what that officer was saying! It was just as if I had heard him say that ... that you were Starrett Blade and that man out there is Devil Garrett!" she made a choking sound. "And I've been here, alone, for a month! For a month!"
"A month? Huh—please—you...?"
Star took a breath, and started over. "You.... Who are you? What are you doing here?"
She said, "I'm Anne Hinton. My father is Old John Hinton. Have you heard of him?"
"Of course!" said Star. "He manufactures most of the equipment 'Blade Cosmian' uses. Weapons, Hineson Sub-Spacers, Star-Traveler craft ... the ship I was in when Garrett brought me down was a Hinton craft. I should have recognized the name. But go on. What—"