Come to that, what had brought Bellamy? He couldn’t need the money that badly. Simple kicks? Had he wanted to strike at human-alien relationships? The races of known space are vastly richer for the interstellar trade. But Bellamy had lived through at least three human-kzinti wars; he’d read of things that looked like Lloobee in his children’s books.

He was a man displaced in time. I remembered the way he’d said “stark naked.” I’d used a nudist’s license myself on Earth, not because I believed the incredible claims for nudism’s health-giving properties but because I was with friends who did. Come to that, I was nude now. (Would I have to buy a license when I reached the base?) But Bellamy had laughed when he’d said it. Nudism was funny.

I remembered the archaisms in his speech.

Bellamy. He’d done nothing seriously wrong, not until he had decided to kill Emil and me. We could have been friends. Now it was too late. I finished my drink and crumpled the cup; it evaporated.

A black streak on my goggles at the edge of my right eye.

…Much too late. The black blotch of Bellamy’s fusion flame was far to the north, passing me. He’d done it. He’d brought the Drunkard’s Walk.

Had he seen me?

The ship curved around toward the sun, slowed, and stopped in my path. It came down my throat. I swerved; Bellamy swerved to meet me.

He flashed by overhead, and my car, moving at Mach four, bucked under the lash of the sonic boom. The crash field gripped me for an instant, then went off.

He turned and came from behind.

Slam! And he was disappearing into the blue and green and orange sunset. What was he playing at? He must know that one touch of fusion flame would finish me.

He could end me any time he pleased. The Drunkard’s Walk was moving at twice my speed, and Bellamy moved it about like an extension of his fingers. He was playing with me.

Again he turned, and again the hypersonic boom slapped me down. The blur of veldt came up at me, then receded. Another such might slap me into the fern grass at Mach four.

He wasn’t playing. He was trying to force me to land. My corpse was to carry no evidence of murder.

Slam! And again the black blotch shrank against the sunset.