"Some trick." Randl laughed suddenly. "Funny their wanting the Ship as
much as you and I do."
"Think they could know what's in it?"
Randl's narrow shoulders twitched. "Near as we know, their legend is
the same as ours. Something holy in the Ship, sacred and tabu. Only
difference is they want to get it for themselves, and we want to keep
it." He coughed and spat in sudden angry disgust. "And we've swallowed
that stuff. We've let the Officers hoard heat and food so they can live
no matter what happens to us. We're fools, Wes! A lot of bloody fools!"
He got up and began jabbing with his spear at heads that poked up over
the wall.
* * * * *
The Piruts began to slack off. Stones still whistled past Kirk's
head--a couple of them had grazed him by now--and spears showered down,
but they weren't climbing the walls any more.
Randl grounded his spear, gasping. "That's that. Pretty soon they'll
break, and then we can start thinking about...."
He stopped. Kirk put a stone accurately through the back of a Pirut's
head and said grimly:
"Yeah. About what _we're_ going to do."
Randl didn't answer. He sat down suddenly, doubled over. Kirk grinned.
"Take it easy," he said softly. "I'll cover you."
Randl whispered, "Wes. Wes!" He held up one thin hand. Kirk let his own
drop, looking at it. There was blood on it, running clear to the elbow.
He went down beside Randl, putting his arms around him, trying to see.
Randl shook him off.
"Don't move me, you fool! Just listen." His voice was harsh and rapid.
He was holding both hands over the left side of his neck, where it
joined the shoulder. Kirk could see the bright blood beating up through
his fingers.