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But Tara of Helium made no reply. Already had she spoken. She stood in silence
now facing the burly warrior who approached her. He came close and then quite
suddenly he seized her and, bending, tried to draw her lips to his.
Lan-O saw the woman from Helium half turn, and with a quick movement jerk
her right hand from where it had lain upon her breast. She saw the hand shoot
from beneath the arm of E-Med and rise behind his shoulder and she saw in the
hand a long, slim blade. The lips of the warrior were drawing closer to those of
the woman, but they never touched them, for suddenly the man straightened,
stiffly, a shriek upon his lips, and then he crumpled like an empty fur and lay, a
shrunken heap, upon the floor. Tara of Helium stooped and wiped her blade upon
his harness.
Lan-O, wide-eyed, looked with horror upon the corpse. "For this we shall both
die," she cried.
"And who would live a slave in Manator?" asked Tara of Helium.
"I am not so brave as thou," said the slave girl, "and life is sweet and there is
always hope."
"
Life is sweet," agreed Tara of Helium, "but honor is sacred. But do not fear.
When they come I shall tell them the truth--that you had no hand in this and no
opportunity to prevent it."
For a moment the slave girl seemed to be thinking deeply. Suddenly her eyes
lighted. "There is a way, perhaps," she said, "to turn suspicion from us. He has
the key to this chamber upon him. Let us open the door and drag him out--
maybe we shall find a place to hide him."
"
Good!" exclaimed Tara of Helium, and the two immediately set about the matter
Lan-O had suggested. Quickly they found the key and unlatched the door and
then, between them, they half carried, half dragged, the corpse of E-Med from the
room and down the stairway to the next level where Lan-O said there were vacant
chambers. The first door they tried was unlatched, and through this the two bore
their grisly burden into a small room lighted by a single window. The apartment
bore evidence of having been utilized as a living-room rather than as a cell, being
furnished with a degree of comfort and even luxury. The walls were paneled to a
height of about seven feet from the floor, while the plaster above and the ceiling
were decorated with faded paintings of another day.
As Tara's eyes ran quickly over the interior her attention was drawn to a section
of paneling that seemed to be separated at one edge from the piece next adjoining
it. Quickly she crossed to it, discovering that one vertical edge of an entire panel
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