The canal door burst open and Lieutenant Smith of Mars Detain, who
had been hugging the narrow metal landing ledge, came in like the
proverbial tornado. What he'd heard had more than convinced him. The
deadly little sphere in his hands started to make sharp spitting sounds.
Sarah and Kent and Ray and the invisible _Uarnl_ screamed. All
together, in a dissonance of agony and fear and death.
[Illustration: They screamed, in a dissonance of agony and fear and
death....]
* * * * *
Then, three of them stood loosely, in puzzled silence.
Big Kent brushed a hand across his eyes. "Ray," he muttered, "what in
hell were you yelling about?"
Ray looked at him and sank into the nearest chair.
"Yelling?" he said bewilderedly. His fingers began to unconsciously
perform on the chair arm. "I don't know. Was I yelling?"
Sarah was in Joe's arms, her blue-black hair sending its aching
fragrance into his nostrils. "Joe," she whispered, "Joe, what happened?"
He tipped back her head, ran a finger over her smooth, brown forehead.
Hypnosis--to paralyze and freeze him, to weaken him. He drew her face
against his shoulder again.
What _had_ happened? What would those Psychologists back in Iowa say
if this story ever reached their ears? _The barrier?--the "some sort
of block" in my mind, my freakish mind, that keeps out Projectors--and
Aarnians?_
"Kent," he said, "fix us all some drinks. Lieutenant Smith's got a
story to tell us--about that picnic."