barely sixty of them met near the city gate—grim and weary, most of them with fresh wounds. steve's joy was an emotion the dead parasite would have loved to share when he saw teejay among the sixty. kevin was there too, and steiner. surprisingly, schuyler barling seemed more sprightly than the rest.

"leclarc?" steve demanded.

"he was the first," said kevin. "stronger control, perhaps. he's among those who could not make it."

"maybe they're still alive."

"no," teejay told him. "i saw three men die, horribly. most of the others probably did, too."

"don't you see, boy, we can't chance survival for all of us to seek out one or two who might still be alive! it wouldn't be fair." kevin shook his head grimly.

steve knew he was right. he was far too exhausted to argue, anyway. "then we'll go as we are?"

"well, there are half a dozen others in the gate-house now, forcing information from some of the hosts."

"what information?"

"about sub-space, boy. a hunter named mcsweeney was possessed by a scientist of sorts, and he learned the sub-space gear is a compact little device which a man can carry. they store a few dozen of 'em in the gate-house, and—hello!"

half a dozen men emerged from the stone structure, and one of them fell as a beam of energy seared out and caught him. a variety of creatures streamed out after them, triggering strange weapons. soon the fighting became general, and it looked for a time as though the humans—without weapons of any sort—would be slaughtered. but steve grabbed one of the stilt-creatures, twisted its neck quickly, heard a sharp cracking sound. the creature fell and steve plunged down with it, coming up with the hand-weapon and firing into the ranks that bore down upon them.

as others of the aliens fell, men retrieved their weapons, fighting back with ever-increased fire-power, although their numbers were decreasing. and battling thus, they broke through the gate and out among the purple-misted hills. hissing beams of energy emitted sufficient light to see by, and kevin's voice could be heard roaring above the sounds of fighting:

"stick together! if a man's lost in this purple fog, he's done for! stick together!"

it was a nightmare. steve fought shoulder to shoulder with teejay. now that he'd been reunited with her, there'd be no more separation, he vowed silently. not unless he died here on the purple world.

energy beams crossed back and forth as the men retreated, stumbling and darting among the little hillocks. time lost its normally rigid control. hours might have been minutes, or the other way around. time became utterly subjective, with each man living in his own particular continuum. for steve it seemed at least a short version of eternity until they reached the frank buck. and when they did, dawn was streaking the horizon with pale blue radiance, casting a deep purple shadow from the ship to where they fought.

it was kevin who reached the airlock first, kevin who sprung it open. two by two they filed in, still facing the aliens and firing their weapons. at the last moment—when fully half of those who remained had entered the ship—the three anthrovacs appeared, came loping across the plain toward them.

steve cut the first one down and drew careful aim on the second. it wasn't necessary. the third anthrovac abruptly turned on its fellow and sent it reeling, senseless, with one blow. in the confusion, its parasite must have been careless, must have relaxed its control. the anthrovac, which made a habit of miming men, whirled and began to wreack havoc among the pursuers.

it helped turn the tide of battle, and with steve and teejay, it was the last to enter the ship.