pressure

the Patrol ship took off.
Blinded by the sweep of flame Kartr clung to one of the pillars to keep his footing.
“What—?” he gasped.
And a babble of question joined and drowned out his.

17 — THE END IS NOT YET
The hard surface of the partition ground into Kartr’s back as the pressure of the crowd jammed him against that barrier. All the refugees were there in the narrow space behind the control table, tense, expectant, with no atten­tion for anything but the sky map on the wall. Beside the sergeant a tall girl in the battle-stained tunic of a civilian supply assistant muttered half aloud to herself.
“There’s only one of them—by the Grace of the Three—there is only one for him to face!”
Her “one” was that ominous red dot of the pirate ship still on course to Terra—headed without doubt for the very point on that planet where they now stood. But, even as they watched that advance helplessly, a second dot appeared