Unwillingly, trying to rescue the shreds of her clothing, Miss Martine went to kneel by Delmar and investigate his condition - none too gently.  Pardoe turned to the silent ship; he scowled at it.

"I'm going to toast your friends, Miss Ash.  It will be interesting to see how much of it you can stand."  He turned again and aimed his weapon at Lacoste.  Selena stirred.

"I can't take any more of this."

"You hold still," Joe muttered.  "He's only bluffing.  He can't scare that feller any more than he's scared right now, and he knows it."

The beamer held steady.  Lacoste shut his eyes in terror.  Pardoe snarled and lowered the weapon.
"#####!" he growled.  Miss Martine glanced at him from her crouch.

"She's no fool, Buck.  Why would she come out?  What's to gain?"

"Yes.  How's the tough guy?"

"He'll live."  She got to her feet again, and with an angry vehemence, dragged at the last shreds of her clothes and flung them away.  She began patting and rubbing herself a vain attempt to get ease.  "Look, think of something, will you?  And fast - I'm going crazy with this itch!"

Pardoe turned once more to stare at the ship.  Frustration was obvious in every line of his bulky body.

"I play you one more game," he growled, and strode to where one landing foot had settled into the turf.  It was a pointless sign of his need to get close, to get violent.  He glared up.

"I know you're in there!" he roared.  "Smart, huh?  Well you just listen to me.  You better come out, and soon!"  He swung his free hand into a fist and slammed it against the metal.  Selena winced, knowing what was coming next.  The high-frequency twister field that lurked invisibly in the metal wrenched Pardoe's arm away, spun him completely around and sent him careening away in knotted convulsions.  The beamer fell from his twitching hand.  Before he could regain control he had plunged headlong into a thicket nearby.  Once again the eager bushes closed in, smothering, binding, gouging, constricting and biting.  This time it was Miss Martine's turn to stand and stare open-mouthed, and then to hoist her beamer and run.

Then she halted, frantically trying to weigh the situation.  This time it wasn't so easy to spot the main stems.  She adjusted to needle-beam and sliced away at one side, right down to the soil.  Coughing as the acrid fumes rolled out, she swung and sliced at the other side.  Selena could hardly see her for the smoke; but her voice was audible.

"Hold still, Buck.  I can't get at the roots at all.  I'm setting for wide on low and I'll toast them off you.  Hold still, now!"