I lowered it. “Fasten on the glare-ray,” I told Doriza, and when she had done so I drew it up. After it climbed Doriza herself.
“Now what?” she demanded. “I haven’t had time to ask.”
“Turn on the glare. Like that, yes—set it against one wall, and let it fall on the opposite, to fill this little passageway through which they must pass to fight each other.”
The golden glow sprang into being. At the same moment a shout rose from the direction of the corridor. A patrol of Newcomers appeared, and others behind.
I sprang erect.
“Attention, all!” I roared at the top of my lungs. “Fire no shots, send no rays, or you will all perish in the explosion! You came to fight, exterminate! But I—I, Barak, the foremost fighter on this planet—am here to see that it does not happen!”
And I drew the saber at my side.
VI
I struck a pose as I stood there. I hoped that a grim and heroic attitude might give them pause.
“It’s Barak!” said an officer at the forefront of the Newcomers.
“Barak!” echoed a warrior of Dondromogon. I heard a rattle and clink of weapons.
“Remember,” I made haste to call out, “a bullet or ray will tear this place—and both forces—to bits! I’ll perish, and so will every man on either side, as far as the explosion reaches!”
The Newcomers were only a trifle mystified, but the Dondromogon party, which knew what was beneath us, wavered. Those in the front rank appeared to give back a little. The Newcomers saw this beyond me, and made to move forward. Their officer, he who had recognized me, gestured outward with his arms to make some sort of battle formation. “Rush through,” he said, “and fight it out in the clear beyond.”
“Come on if you dare!” blared an officer of Dondromogon.
“Let nobody dare,” I said, “unless he thinks he can fight his way past me.”
The Newcomers paused in turn. “Barak,” said the officer, “don’t you know us? Don’t you know me?”
I did know him, now that he spoke again. “You’re Harvison, aren’t you?” I hailed him. “Don’t be the first I must kill.” I wheeled around. “My challenge isn’t to the Newcomers alone. I said, nobody shall pass through. My sword, if not my voice, will stop this war, here and now.”
I heard a laugh, deep and familiar. Gederr had come among his troops.
“That’s logic for you!” he mocked me. “Barak was always a man of blood! He’ll kill us all to stop this slaughter. Someone finish him.”
One of his lieutenants spoke to two of the foremost men, who stepped forward, rifles at the ready.
“If they shoot—” began Doriza tremulously.
“If they do, they destroy everyone!” I reminded yet again. “Come, who dares. Swords if you will, but no fire!”
The officer who had given the order stepped between the two soldiers, saber drawn. “Ready to rush,” he said. “My blade, your butts—”
They approached, side by side. Their faces were set, grim. They faltered for only a moment at the entry to the glare field.
In that moment I rushed them.
They hadn’t expected that, three against one. I shouted, and hurled myself at the soldier on the left. He made to dodge, and the officer opposed his own saber; but I spun away from it and before the other soldier knew my mind I was upon him. I could not use the ray in my blade, but it drove past his hastily lifted gun-barrel and struck his mailed shoulder so heavily that he dropped his weapon. Stepping in close, I uppercut him with the curved hilt as with a mailed fist.
Leaping over his falling form, I was upon the officer. A single twist, and I had his saber in my left hand. Two blows sent him staggering back. I parried a blow from the rifle-stock of the remaining soldier with my left-hand blade, while with my right I stabbed him in the side. He, too, retreated, clutching his wound. I waved my blood-streaming weapons.
“Who next?” I called.
Harvison made stout reply:
“You’re mad, Barak. I know I’m no match for you, nobody is—but here I come!”
He came, and his fellows. They all tried to crowd at once into that narrow corridor, and hampered each other. I had a mighty sweep with both my swords, spanning twelve full feet with them—enough for my purpose. At my first parry I turned aside three points at once, disengaged, and got home on poor Harvison, through the shoulder. He sank to one knee, and further impeded his friends. I made a sweeping cut with both blades, and despite themselves they gave back.
“This is monotonous,” I taunted them. “Make it exciting.”
“Rush at his back,” I heard Gederr yelling.
“Careful!” Doriza warned me. And then another voice I knew, deep and stout:
“I won’t let them! Yandro, or Barak, or whoever you are—I’m with you!”
“Klob!” I yelled joyously over my shoulder. “I should have known I could count on you!”
He had rushed, facing about at my very shoulder-blades. I heard the snick of his blade against another weapon. Doriza again cried a warning, to Klob this time, and he scored on his adversary, for he snorted triumphantly. Then the Newcomers surged at me again.
I could not kill my own people. I strove to wound only. Three staggered back, out of the fight, but the others pressed me bravely. Both my swords must be everywhere at once. My breath began to come quickly, my mind floundered here and there for new stratagems. The saving answer came, not from my own brain, but from Klob.
“You!” I heard him address a new adversary. “You want to kill me? Truly?”
“Why—” panted the other. “Why, no—Klob—why
