"You are safe--not
alone."
That brought a measure of comfort. But he was still in the dark, and
he was moving--he could not will his hands to move--yet he was moving.
He was being carried!
The flitter--he was back on the flitter! They were air-borne. But who
was piloting?
"Captain! Soriki!" he appealed for reassurance. And then was aware
that there was no familiar motor hum, none of that pressure of rushing
air to which he had been so long accustomed that he missed it only
now.
"You are safe--" Again that would-be comfort. But Raf tried to move
his arms, twist his body, be sure that he rested in the flitter. Then
another thought, only vaguely alarming at first, but which grew
swiftly to panic proportions--He was in the alien globe--He was a
prisoner!
"You are safe!" the words beat in his mind.
"But where--where?" he felt as if he were screaming that at the full
power of his lungs. He must get out of this dark envelope, be free.
Free! Free Men--He was Raf Kurbi of the Federation of Free Men, member
of the crew of the Spacer _RS 10_. But there had been something else
about free men--
Painfully he pulled fragments of pictures out of the past, assembled a
jigsaw of wild action.
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