now,” somebody
We told them they’d have to wait there in the house till you woke.”
The ramp beam set her down on the sand of a path. There was hot daylight around her then—seventeen years behind her, and an open door twenty steps ahead.
Her knees began wobbling again.
Zamm couldn’t move.
For a score of scores of light-years about, Cushgar the Mighty lay on its face, howling to its gods to save it from the wrath of the ghosts and the wrath of Zamm.
But she—Zone Agent Zamman Tarradang-Pok, conqueror of space, time, and all the laws of probability—she, Free-mind Unqualified of the Free Daya-Bals—Doctor of Neuronics—Vega’s grand champion of the Galaxy:
No, she just couldn’t move!
Something put-putted suddenly by overhead. Enough of its seared and molten exterior remained to indicate that at some t