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The doctor took a moment to gather her nerve. Then she stopped suddenly and dug her heel into her captor’s shin as hard as she could. As he cried out in pain, she whirled and kicked him squarely in the mouth.

Before he could recover from the blow, she took off in Blue Coat’s direction. “It’s me!” she yelled, flinging her hood back with a toss of her head.

Blue Coat stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise and apprehension. But he had probably never seen a human, especially under such strange circumstances.

For what seemed like a long time, he gave no indication of how he would respond. Then he reached out and grabbed Beverly by the arm, and pulled her down the street.

“Quickly!” he rasped, casting a look back over his shoulder.

But Beverly had the heartsick feeling they weren’t going fast enough. After all, the centurion still had a weapon in his hand, and she had seen how deadly accurate he could be with it.

Manathas put aside the pain in his shin, which was considerable, and went after Crusher. She had placed both him and his plan to spirit her off Kevratas in jeopardy, but he could still achieve his objective if he acted quickly.

Raising his weapon, which was set to merely stun, he aimed it at the doctor’s back. But before he could squeeze the trigger, a Kevrata got in his way. He had no choice but to fire, sending the fellow sprawling in the snow.

Then he pelted after Crusher and the native who appeared to have befriended her. A member of the rebellion? the Romulan wondered as he began to close the gap.

He had almost caught up with Crusher and her new-found companion when a couple more of the Kevrata intervened. Obviously, they meant to stand there until they were cut down as well.

“Out of my way!” Manathas snapped, in a voice calculated to command respect.

Neither of the natives moved. A couple of quick blasts and they were no longer a problem.

But half a dozen other Kevrata appeared to block his path. And as the Romulan slowed his pace to deal with them, Crusher and her friend vanished around a bend.

Manathas started to take aim at the natives when he realized there were others closing in on him-not just from the front, but from all sides. And they were rasping curses at him, giving rein to their indignation.

He had seen indignant crowds before. He knew what they were capable of, once their anger gathered momentum, and he didn’t relish the idea of being trampled to death.

Manathas had lost his captive. He had lost his chance to leave Kevratas with his mission accomplished. But he wasn’t about to lose his life into the bargain.

Whirling in the opposite direction from the one Crusher had taken, he fired at the first Kevrata he saw. As his victim hit the ground, the Romulan leaped over him and ran down the street.

There was an uproar from the crowd, but it died with distance. And by the time Manathas turned the corner, he was among Kevrata who had no idea what had taken place.

Slowing his pace to a walk, he blended in with the stream of gaudily colored coats. There were cries of outrage behind him as his pursuers railed at him, but he didn’t turn around. He was just another Kevrata going about his workaday business, inured to the violence fostered by the Romulan oppressor.

Of course, Manathas would miss his appointment at the beam-up site, and thereby forgo his ride back to Romulus. But he couldn’t help that.

Regardless of what he had told the doctor, he couldn’t leave Kevratas without her. Despite the danger, he preferred to remain there and attempt to retrieve her than to face the prospect of living-and dying-with a filthy plague inside him.

14

BEVERLY HAD NEVER BEEN SO APPRECIATIVE OF A hole in the ground as the one she stood contemplating now.

“As you can see,” said Faskher, the Kevrata who had helped her escape the centurion, “you have insulation and heaters to keep you warm.” He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of his front door. “There is water down there as well, and some dried food.