He lurched to his feet and stared into the faces of a Jovian
detachment, the black-clad elite guard of the dictator himself. Martin
Wilder the Great huddled in their midst. Colonel Roshevsky-Feldkamp was
at their head, in charge of Jupiter's home defense, Ray thought wildly,
and tried to stretch his arms higher.
"Ballantyne!" The Jovian officer glared at him for a long moment. "So
you are responsible."
"I had nothing to do with it, so help me I didn't," protested Ray
between the clattering of his teeth.
"You brought these savages in, you and your damned faster-than-light
engine. If it weren't for your hostage value, I'd shoot you now. As it
is, I'll wait till later. March!"
They went carefully down the glutted hall-street. The Centaurians had
been picking up souvenirs from every shop and apartment they passed.
"Don't think this will accomplish anything," said Wilder pompously.
"You may have driven us from our capital, but we have already called
for help from the other cities--from the whole Jovian System. The
fleet is on its way."
So the amazons had taken Ganymede City. And now they'd be too busy
looting to think about counterattacks from outside. Ray groaned.
"We have to get out of here, sir," said Roshevsky-Feldkamp. "We don't
want you to be caught in the fighting."
"No, no, that would never do," said Wilder quickly.
"There is a military airlock this way, with spacesuits. We can get out
on the surface."
"I will strike a new medal," chattered the dictator. "The Defense of
the Homeland Medal."
"And afterward we will take those ships." Roshevsky-Feldkamp's hard
face lit with a terrible glee. "And then the stars are ours."
"Hoo-ah!"
The shout rang down the hallway. Ray saw a Centaurian band, staggering
under armloads of assorted plunder, emerge from a side passage. The
Jovians brought their rifles up.
Something like an atomic bomb hit the group from the rear. Dyann's
war-cry shrieked above the sudden din. She hadn't been altogether a
fool.
Ray was shoved back against the wall by the sudden whirlpool of
struggling bodies. He ducked as a Varannian sword whistled overhead.
Dyann was wading in among the Jovians, kicking, striking, hewing like a
maniac. She split one enemy apart, pitched another into a third, turned
around and chopped loose. Her warriors got to work at her side.
A panting Jovian backed up close to Ray, lifting his rifle anew to
shoot down the bronze-haired girl. The Earthmen thoughtfully removed
the soldier's pistol from its holster and shot him.
"My little hero!" cried Dyann happily. "I love you so much!" She beat
down another man's gun and broke his head.
The fight ended. Most of the Jovians had simply been knocked
galley-west and submitted in a stunned way to being bound and hoisted
to Varannian shoulders. Ray had a glimpse of Martin Wilder the Great
and Colonel Roshevsky-Feldkamp being dragged off by a squat and
muscular amazon with a silly smirk on her sword-scarred face. They
were destined for her harem, and he couldn't think of two people he'd
rather have it happen to.