fell into the transparent tube he held ready to receive it.
Kenworth had scarcely a gill of the fluid to show for a year's toil on Venus, but it was a good yield, and would be worth seven work-units when placed on the market in N'yok—fifteen thousand dollars, by ancient reckoning. The almost magical properties of elysia as a super-nerve-tonic made it invaluable, for it could be grown only on the scattered islands of the Great Sea of Venus.
The televisor whistled shrilly from the dome-shaped building that was Kenworth's home. He screwed the top on the tube of elysia and went to the house, swung in through the door. He clicked the button that vacuum-sealed the room and released a welcome stream of pure, cold air. Then he touched the televisor switch.
On the screen a face sprang out in sharp detail—paper-white, streaked with crimson. The boyish features were twisted with pain, the dark eyes torture-filled.
"Dal!" a voice croaked from the receiver. "Dal—the Raider!"
Ice gripped Kenworth's heart as he recognized the boy—Jene Trenton, who, with his sister, farmed an elysia garden thirty miles away. The—Raider? Scourge of the spaceways, ruthless pirate of three planets and their moons—why was the Raider on Venus? What was Jene whispering into his transmitter?
"He—he's seized the collection ship! I—didn't know—gave him my elysia—then——" The boy coughed blood, clutched at his throat. He went on swiftly, weakly. "He saw Thona! Took her—he——"
The boy toppled. His face came rushing up at the screen, eyes blankly shut. Kenworth was suddenly aware that he was shouting into the transmitter, mouthing frantic questions. The boy's eyes opened, stared into Kenworth's.
"Save her—Ken——"
His eyes closed. Blood seeped from his mouth as his jaw fell.
Kenworth saw that he was dead.
A warning throb came from the televisor. Kenworth sprang to the door, flung it open. Against the gray clouds, dim in the rain, a black oval grew larger—the, collection ship, swiftly descending. And within it—Thona Trenton and the Raider!
Kenworth found a gas-pistol—a stubby, flat weapon that was dangerously effective at close range—and a ray-tube, deadly, no longer than a pencil. He went back to the televisor and manipulated a dial. The screen went blank, was suddenly shot with a whirl of racing, blended colors.
He spoke quickly into the transmitter.
"Emergency ether-call! This is Dal Kenworth, son of President Kenworth of the Americas. The Raider is on Venus. He has seized the collection ship and is landing on my elysia farm. He has a hostage on board. Send fighting-ships at once. I'll try to hold him here."
Kenworth moved the dial, touched a switch. Immediately the screen lighted up, showing his own face. His voice came from the transmitter.
"Emergency ether-call! This is Dal Kenworth——"
Satisfied, Kenworth shut off the televisor receiver. That message would continue to be sent out into the ether until the sending apparatus was shut off or destroyed. And as soon as the ships of the Interplanetary Patrol received it——
He turned to the door. The collection ship, looking like a fat black cigar, was settling toward a cleared space beyond the elysia fields. As he watched it, a door in its side swung open, and a
