felt the burn of salt. There was tightness all through him as he waited for the first shock. His fingernails cut his palms. His breath stopped. His shoulders and arms hardened, stretched tight his tunic.

The commander flicked his finger at the one kneeling before the little black box. This one tripped a lever. A soft hum seemed to rise from the box and fill the room.

Thorus listened to the hum grow until it was a soft, high pitched scream. He closed his eyes. The next instant a shattering blow ripped through every inch of his body. Fire ran along his nerves. He felt his lips grimacing away from his teeth, felt the corners of his mouth stretching back to his ears. Oh God, oh God, he cried out in silent agony. Hold back my screams. Then he heard himself groan. He cut off the sound of it. Choked. Heard a growl deep in his chest. Lights flashed in his eyes and there was a tearing apart through his whole body. A squeezing together rushed all around him and an insane pounding and pulling as though his flesh were being beaten and clawed from his bones. Time dropped away from him until it seemed he had never been aware of anything but this agony. Then he was empty of sensation. He felt himself fall forward, felt heavy hands catch him roughly and set him upright. The soft voice of the commander flowed into his mind like a voice from outer space:

"You will tell us your method of going into the macrocosm. The equations, the type ship, its propellent, where the ship is hidden."

Thorus felt enveloped in a void.

The voice of the commander droned on. "All we need is a clue. We'll work out the rest."

Life and feeling and thought were surging back into Thorus now. Strength filled his muscles again. Sight came into his eyes. Again he sat straight and stiff on the chair. The block held, he thought. It held and they cannot know now!

"Speak!" The commander's voice rose. "Damn you!" He seized Thorus by the hair. "You've blocked off the information. I'll see both of you tortured until you'll wish to kill each other. Then we'll try the clamps again." He smashed his fist into Thorus' face.

On the instant the commander pulled back his fist, Thorus reached out and jerked the blaster from his belt. His foot came up hard against the man's groin. There was a grunting cry of pain. Thorus fell backward off the stool, pressing the blaster trigger as he hit the floor. He saw blood gush from the commander's middle, saw him pitch sideways, like a broken statue, heard Aria's scream. The clamps pulled from his head. He swung the gun's muzzle to the two policemen, clawing at their holsters. The blaster struck out, a long coughing hiss, a spray of flame. There were cries and gasps and jerking and clutching and the scrambling fall of the two bodies.

Then silence.

Thorus crawled unsteadily to his feet, stood swaying. The gun hung loosely in his hand. Now he felt Aria close to him, heard her voice trembling and breathy.

"Thorus! Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"The blocks held! They held!"

Steadying himself, he saw Aria glance at the bodies on the floor.

"Destruction!" she shuddered. "Nothing but destruction. Oh God, I'm sick of it!"

Thorus let the gun drop to the floor. "There's no time to talk. Your laboratory." He grasped her by the shoulders and turned her toward a bright steel door across the room. "You'll save time to go into your damned microcosm. You'll make it. Good luck. If I have any luck at all, I'll make it too." He gave her a push. Without speaking or turning back, she moved across the room, as though sleep walking. The gleaming door slab slid back as she approached it, closed behind her.

The memory of her face stayed in his mind for a long moment after she had disappeared, and from the room's atmosphere he seemed to breathe in regret and a sense of their failure. He turned abruptly, looked down at each crumpled body. Opening the door a crack, he searched the