"What about Nida Mane? It is about her I wish to speak."
There was a slight stirring of interest in the soldier's face.
"He will be glad to see you, sir, if you bring news of her."
"Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to tell will be of no interest to him."
"If you can tell him where she is he will ask no more of you."
"She made good her escape then?"
Slow suspicion was dawning at last.
"For one who brings news you ask a lot of questions," the guard remarked heavily, as his hand slipped to the needle-ray weapon at his side. "Show your pass!"
Like a flash Mich'l was upon him, his hand at the thick throat, the other grasping the wrist. Although the soldier, like the majority of the populace, lacked the intense vitality of the technies, he had stubborn strength, and he fought effectively in the drilled, automatic way of his kind. Mich'l was further handicapped by the necessity of maintaining silence. One shout, and a dozen needle-rays would no doubt perforate his body with holes and slash his flesh with smoldering cuts.