The Ties That Bind

by Walter M. Miller

"Evon!"

As he called out, the baron whirled, hand slipping to the hilt of the ceremonial sword he wore in the presence of the Geoark. The men stopped. Meikl stared at the limp figure in the arms of the native.

"Letha!"

"Dead," Evon hissed. "They killed her for running...."

They emerged from the shrubs into full view. The officer was holding a gun.

"Put that away!" ven Klaeden snapped.

The young officer laughed sourly. "Sorry, baron, I'm from the committee."

"Guard!"

"There's no one in earshot, Baron."

"Fool!" Ven Klaeden arrogantly whipped out the sword. "Drop that gun, or I'll blade-whip you!"