reared and with its forelegs struck the fragile crystal form repeatedly, shattering it like glass.
The fog began to clear, allowing Trelig and Vistaru—who were wearing the breathers from their space- suits—to join the action.
The Torshind abandoned its ptir for the body nearest it—Wooley’s. The Yaxa was surprised, but the Torshind knew the Yaxa system well and was in complete control almost immediately. It quickly turned on Trelig, spitting the brownish substance.
The material didn’t devastate the reptile as it had the Agitar, but the goo did blind him for a minute. Wooley then turned to the horse, which was finishing the job on the Torshind’s shell, and raised its pistol.
Joshi, still amazed at Mavra’s jumping into the fight, noticed Wooley’s threat to her, although none of the others did. Without thinking, he leaped to the center of the room, placing himself between the Yaxa and Mavra, who was just turning around.
The pistol fired full-force, enveloping Joshi in a blinding electrical light that flickered like a photographic negative and then faded into nothingness.
Seeing this, Mavra’s mind suddenly exploded, expelling the Ghiskind with unexpected force. “Joshi!” she screamed and started for the Yaxa. Disoriented, the Ghiskind followed just above her, almost as if attached. Vistaru, who had managed to fly out of the smoke, saw what had happened and dived for the Yaxa.
At this moment, Ben Yulin was rising shakily to his feet and noticed a blur of motion from the corner of his eye. Lunging for a saddlebag, he flung it with full force at the shape. The saddlebag struck Vistaru straight on, knocking her to the floor and pinning her under it.
She looked up to see Mavra’s horselike form bearing down on the possessed Yaxa, whose pistol rose to meet the threat.
“Kally! For God’s sake fight it! Take control!
A tentacle tried to squeeze the trigger, but could not. The Yaxa body convulsed, and Mavra Chang struck, knocking over the Yaxa and landing on top of the butterfly-creature.
Trelig, meanwhile, spied Yulin picking up his pistol, and leaped for the minotaur. Yulin whirled, saw the frog, dived—and the Makiem sailed over him.
Like a swimmer in a sprint, Trelig didn’t miss a stroke. He turned in midair, and his powerful webbed feet struck the wall, propelling him forward again. He landed, somersaulted, and rose with a pistol on Yulin.
And Yulin had his pistol on Trelig.
The Ghiskind, atop Mavra, regained its senses from the stunning mental blow it had received. No mind that strong had ever been experienced by it or any other Yugash.
In the meantime, Mavra extricated herself from the convulsing Yaxa to avoid being crushed. Clearly, a major battle was being fought within the shiny yellow-black head.
Trelig and Yulin looked at each other. “Standoff,” Trelig chuckled. “How about a truce, Ben? We’re old friends. Let’s see how the rest of this comes out. You and me, together again on New Pompeii!”
Yulin’s big brown eyes shined, his manner softened. The pistol dipped slightly. “Okay, Antor. Partners this time, though. Right?”
Trelig kept one of his eyes on Yulin while the other followed the drama being played out on the floor.
And it was clear now who was winning.
Slowly and unsteadily, the Torshind emerged from the body of the Yaxa; Wooley collapsed and was still.
The Ghiskind immediately hurled itself at the emerging ghostly red figure. As the two met, their forms became less distinct, just a blurry dull-red sheet of energy, a ball of dull fire suspended two meters or so above the floor.
While this was occurring, Vistaru managed to free herself of the heavy saddlebags and rose groggily to her feet. She looked around, saw Yulin and Trelig through the thin yellow haze not three meters apart, pistols half on each other but attention mostly on the drama now in the center of the room.
Mavra lay unnaturally on her side, still but breathing hard. Huge, thick tears fell from the horse’s eyes.
The fight between the two Yugash had intensified.
The energy sphere grew denser, more compact, and more intense. Now, suddenly, there was but a single glowing bright-red ball, almost too bright to look at, in the air above the room. It was about the size of a grapefruit.
There was a sudden, violent explosion and thunder reverberated along the halls of the building, rattling partitions, doors, and anything else that was loose. The odor of ozone was sharp.
Then, so dim that it could hardly be seen, a figure dropped to the floor and seemed to inflate, like a balloon. It moved slightly, but was terribly weak and stunned, that was obvious.
One of the Yugash had survived.
“Which one?” Vistaru breathed. “I wonder which one?”
Trelig turned slightly to face her. “We’ll only find out when it can get into a body,” he said. “Until then —”
His words were cut short as Yulin, taking advantage of Trelig’s preoccupation, suddenly dropped to one knee and fired directly at the frog. As Joshi’s had, Trelig’s form froze in fire, seemed to become a negative of itself, then winked out with a flash.
Antor Trelig had made the first mistake of his long life, and now he was dead.
Vistaru gasped and had her own pistol from its little holster in an instant. Yulin turned to face her, gun ready, and saw that she had him cold.
He paused, shrugged, and tossed his own energy pistol away to the other side of the room where it fell with a clatter.
The Lata was amazed.
“Why?” she asked him in wonder.
He laughed. “I’m your only way into Obie now,” he reminded her. “And the only pilot with hands. I think it’s time for a merger.”
Vistaru didn’t trust him, but was uncertain as to what to do. Mavra was apparently in shock; the Yugash, whichever it was, was badly hurt and unable to communicate; Wooley was out cold; Trelig was gone; the rest of her allies were out cold or dead.
She and Ben Yulin were the only whole and conscious people in the room, perhaps in the whole building.
Yulin stood up and looked around. His massive bull’s head surveyed the wreckage of bodies, the charred and smashed equipment.
“God! What a mess!” he breathed.
The Launch Complex Four Hours Later
Bozog attendants wheeled out the last of the problem cases, janitorial crews swabbed down the floor, and blowers cleansed the air. Several decisions had been made by the survivors, which had pared things down nicely.
Of them all, Renard had been the least hurt; the paralysis from the Yaxa venom wore off within an hour of the battle. Wooley was slower to recover; she had lost some blood in the first clash and had a debilitating headache as a result of the second. Burodir and the centaurs were sent to the Zone Gate for return home. The form of a Yugash still lay on the floor, indistinct but definitely alive. The survivors still had no idea which Yugash had survived; to most of their tastes, it would have been better if the two enemies had destroyed each other.
And now they sat—just Renard, Wooley, Yulin, Vistaru, and Mavra Chang—and the odd red form on the floor.
With Bozog help, they’d managed to get Mavra to her feet; she hadn’t made any protest, just remained limp and glassy-eyed.
Ben Yulin looked her over carefully, trying to get some reaction, but none was forthcoming. “Think it was the
