His arm was in the trunk—the prosthetic arm. He was almost helpless one-armed, except where he could capitalize on the weapon of surprise. Once he got the prosthetic from his trunk—

He faded into the shadows as a uniformed figure passed by. One of Henderson's policeman, no doubt, making the night rounds. Thornwald let the man go by, then continued to glide among the shrubbery toward the impressive mansion that was Henderson's home.

Thornwald's mind revolved the situation over and over as he moved along. This world was Henderson's private property, and anyone who said different was jugged instantly. It was a world of terror in which a harmless stranger could become a hunted fugitive in a matter of minutes.

He reached Henderson's place. It was a walled mansion, as he expected. There were ways to get over walls, though, Thornwald reflected. He glanced around, found a strange-looking red-leaved tree whose angular limbs had the consistency of rubber, and dragged himself upward.

He reached the bough he wanted, grasped it firmly, and swung out over the wall. He landed—

A foot away from a snarling, blazing-eyed ball of fury. Even in the darkness, he could see the animal clearly—a Vegan ghoslik, all teeth and ferocity and mindless hatred. It snapped at the intruder.

Thornwald launched a vicious kick at the animal, and there was the sound of needle-sharp teeth splintering against his boot. The creature howled and bounded away into the darkness.

So much for your watchdog, Henderson. Now for the real job.

He tiptoed to a window and peered in. A uniformed man was in there, pacing up and down in a corridor. Thornwald smiled, picked up a rock, and hurled it through the window.

The guard whirled instantly, presenting his blaster. "Who goes there?"

Thornwald made no reply. The guard continued to peer out into the night. "Who's there?" he repeated.

As if in answer, Thornwald hurled another rock through the window. This time the guard dashed out of the corridor, up the stairs, and out into the courtyard—where Thornwald was waiting for him with a third rock.

"It's a good thing it wasn't my pitching arm I lost," he muttered gratefully as the guard crumpled. Swiftly Thornwald extracted the guard's blaster and stepped inside the 

 Prev. P 6/11 next