felt before. A star had been given its deathblow, and in its dying throes this solid planet beneath them would be a butterfly in a furnace. They were running, by the time they reached the ship.
He took the control-keys, he took the cruiser off with a nightmare rush. It steadied his shaking hands, that he must use them now — that upon him depended their lives once more. He drove the ship out and out, and behind them the yellow sun still dimmed, and darkened, and—
'Don't look!’ cried Jommor. “Dim the view-plates — dim them — dim them—'
A giant wave of raving energy caught the force-field drive, and the ship went out of control. Banning, groping frantically for the keys, glimpsed the starry heavens gyrating madly across the now-dimmed view-plates. And as the cruiser whirled, there came into view the yellow sun they had left.
It was exploding outward, a cosmic bloom of fire unfolding its awful petals at unthinkable speed. It paled the fierce brilliance of the Cluster, and the Darkness flared up madly with reflected glory, and the whole galaxy seemed to recoil shuddering from the intolerable splendor of the bursting star.
The star that he had slain—
That dread vision whirled away as Sunfire yawed and plunged and trembled, and was tossed like a ship upon giant waves of force.
The triplet of red and green and blue suns loomed up terrifyingly close as the cruiser, was hurled toward them. Banning smashed the keys, drove the ship up, away, was sucked back and fought free again, and again—
It seemed to him that he fought the keys forever, with the symbols on the screen gone crazy and useless, with the power of a riven star seeming to reach out to overtake and destroy the man who had tortured it to this explosion, as it had already destroyed its planet, and the Hammer.
It was only slowly, slowly, that Banning's mind could take in anything but the keys beneath his hands, could realize that the wildest waves were past, that the Sunfire was surging more steadily away from that awesome blaze across the firmament behind them.
Rolf spoke to him, and he did not hear the words. Rolf grasped his shoulder, shouted in his ear, and still he would not listen. A woman spoke to him, and to her too he was deaf and blind.
But a voice came through to Banning, at last — a voice from an old, old time, only whispering, but reaching him when those others could not.
'It is done, Lord. And the ship is safe.'
Banning turned slowly, and saw the wise and loving eyes of Sohmsei. He looked at the view-plates. They were speeding out through the fringes of the Cluster, and wide leads of clear space lay ahead.
Behrent hovered worriedly beside him, wanting to take over. He understood then that they feared him a little mad.
He got up, and Behrent took the keys. Banning looked around at the white faces that met his, and then in the view-plates he saw the thing in the sky behind them, falling far behind now, the stupendous death-fire back on the rim of the Darkness—
'Kyle,” said Rolf, hoarsely. “Kyle, listen—'
He would not listen. He had slain a star, and the burden of a cosmic guilt was on him, and he could not bear their faces or their words. He went past them, be stumbled down the corridor to his cabin, he shut the port so that he could not see the thing back there that he had done.
He sat, not thinking, not trying to think. The cruiser sped on. It seemed a long time before the door opened, and Tharanya came in.
'Kyle.
'Kyle!'
He looked up, and her face was white and strange, all hatred, all passion, gone. He remembered something he must say to her.
'Tharanya, Rolf, and Horek, and all the others—'
'Yes, Kyle?'
'They followed me into this. And I failed them, I destroyed their only hope.'
'They would not have had it otherwise. You did it, for all the galaxy.'
'I know — but I was their leader. I'll make you a proposal. You and Jommor to be turned over to your fleet, out there. I'll go with you. But — a free pardon for all the others.'
'It is done, Kyle. A free pardon for them.'
'Let Rolf hear you say that, Tharanya.'
She went out. When she came back, Rolf and Jommor were with her, and Sohmsei. Rolf looked swiftly at Banning, and then sighed.
'So he's himself again — well, it's small wonder—'
Tharanya spoke to him, and Rolf's brows drew together in anger.
'A pardon for us, and The Valkar to go to death? No!'
Sohmsei whispered, “Death is not in her mind, for the Valkar.'
'No,” said Tharanya. “Oh, no!'
Banning looked up. He saw her face clearly for the first time, and he saw in it what seemed to him incredible.
'Can the years of before, the man of before, come back, Tharanya?'
She had tears in her eyes but her voice was steady. “Not the man of before, not Kyle Valkar only. I could not love him again, but—'
Jommor sighed. “Well.” He turned, his face sad, and then turned back and held out his hand. “I hated The Valkar. But I made him into a different man. I think I could get along with that man.'
Rolf stared at them, at Banning and Tharanya, in amazement. “But I thought at the worst you'd send him back to Earth—'
'Let Earth alone,” she said. “Someday, but not for a long time, we of the Empire will go there in open friendship. But not now. And not The Valkar. He's a starman — you all are. He — you — are welcome to come home to the Empire, if you will. Not the Old Empire, or the New, but — the Empire.'
'By God!” exclaimed Rolf. “Then a Valkar may yet sit upon the throne?'
The old imperious pride flashed up in Tharanya's eyes. “Not on the throne, no!” But her face was troubled as she looked at Banning.
He took her hand. They were not lovers, they were strangers, for he was not the man she had once loved. But maybe the new man, Banning-Valkar, could win back what once the Valkar had won and thrown away.
Far away and long ago seemed Earth, and his years on Earth! Those years had molded him, and he thought not for the worse. But these shining spaces between the stars, these were his birthplace, these were his future, these were his home.
