Will ye put on a friar's coat.

nudge to Helene Fleming at the right placeit was as plain as a pikestaff that it had been no accidentand it was a foregone conclusion that either Jackstraw or myself would have to go down to fix a rope round the youngster who, with her broken collar-bone, would be unable to do it herself: I suppose the possibility that she might have crashed straight through the snow-bridge must have occurred to Corazzini, but a man with a record of killings like he had wouldn't be worried unduly on that scoreannoyance at the failure of his plan would probably have been his only reaction. And when one of us had gone down and the other was supervising the rescue from abovewell, another little nudge would have solved all Corazzini's problems. As it was, I had played into his hands more completely than he could ever have hoped. Mouth dry, sweat breaking out in the palms of my clenched fists and my heart going like a trip-hammer in my chest, I was wondering desperately how he was going to administer the coup de grace when I saw the Rev. Smallwood approaching him arms outstretched and saying something I couldn't catch. It was a brave gesture of the little minister's, but a forlorn and hopeless one: I could see Corazzini change his gun to his left hand, strike Mr Smallwood a heavy backhanded blow across the face and the sound of a body falling on the ice above was unmistakable. And then Corazzini was waving the others back at the point of the gun and was advancing towards the wooden battens that straddled the crevasse, and I knew with a dull certainty how he intended to dispose of us. Why waste two bullets when all he had to do was to kick the edges of these battens over the side? Whether these . battens, weighing two hundred pounds between them, struck us or smashed away the last remaining buttress of the snow-bridge was quite immaterial: the point was that I was inescapably attached to them by the nylon rope round my waist, and when they plummeted down I would go with them, tearing away the bridge and carrying Jackstraw with me to our deaths in the unthinkable depths below. Despairingly, I considered the idea of snatching at the rifle still strapped to Jackstraw's back, but dismissed it even with the thought. It would take me seconds to get it off. There was only one thing for it, and it wasn't going to do me any good at all. With a jump I could be half-way up the rope in a second, the increased weight would make the battens difficult to kick over, and while Corazzini was either pushing these or pumping bullets into china wholesale digital camera me as I swarmed up the rope, somebodyZagero, say, could get him from the rear. That way there might, at least, be a faint chance for Jackstraw. I swung my arms behind me, bent my knees then remained frozen in that ridiculous position as a rope came uncoiling down from above and struck me across the shoulder. I glanced up and saw Corazzini smiling down at me. "You two characters fixin' on stayin' down there all day? Come on up." It would be useless to try to describe the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions that whirled through my mind in the ninety seconds that elapsed before Jackstraw and I stood once more in incredulous safety on the trail above. They ranged from hope to bafflement to wild relief to the conviction that Corazzini was playing a cat-and-mouse game with us, and no one thought was in my mind for more than seconds at a time. Even when I was safe, I still didn't know what to think, the overwhelming relief and gladness and reaction blotted out everything. I was trembling violently, and although Corazzini must have noticed it he affected not to. He stepped forward and handed me the Beretta, butt first. "You're a mite careless about where you stow your armoury, Doc. I've known for a long time where you kept this. But I guess it may have been fairly useful these last few minutes." "Butbut why-?" "Because I've got a damned good job and a chair behind a vice-president's desk waiting for me in Glasgow," he snapped. "I'd appreciate the chance to sit in that chair some day." Without another word, he turned away. I knew what he meant, all right. I knew we owed him our lives. Corazzini was as convinced as I that someone had engineered the whole thing. It didn't require any thought at all to guess who that someone was. My first thought was for Jackstraw. Jackstraw with a broken arm was going to make things very difficult for me: it might well make things quite impossible. But when I'd worked his parka off it required only one glance at the unnatural twist of the left arm to see that though Jackstraw had had every excuse for thinking his arm gone, it was, in fact, an elbow dislocation. He made no murmur and his face remained quite expressionless as I manipulated the bone back into the socket, but the wide white grin that cracked his face immediately afterwards was proof enough of his feelings. I walked over to where Helene Fleming sat on the sledge, still shaking from

"I love him the better therefor."

of the individuals right to Privacy, felonious assault, premeditated interference with her contractual obligation to her Guild, placing her in physical jeopardy as to shelter and sustenance, deprivation of independent decision and freedom of movement, and fraudulent representation for purposes of extortion. How do you plead, Lars Dahl? The voice managed to convey an undertone of regretful compassion, and an invitation to confide and confess. Highly sensitized to every nuance. Killashandra wondered if, by some bizarre freak, the Judicial Branch might actually be guilty of a subtle use of subliminal manipulation in that persuasive voice. Not guilty on all counts, Lars answered quietly, and firmly, as he had rehearsed. And, Killashandra reassured herself, he was not, by the very wordage that Trag and Olav had cleverly employed. You may testify on your own behalf. The request was issued in a stern, uncompromising tone. Although Killashandra listened avidly to every word Lars said in rebuttal and in explanation, tried to analyze the terse questions put to him by the Judicial Monitor, she was never able to recall the next few hours in much detail. He was completely candid, as he had to be, to discharge the accusations. He explained how Elder Ampris, superior to Lars Dahl, student in the Conservatory and as a ruling Elder of the Optherian Council, had approached him, citing the dilemma about Killashandras true identity and the request to wound her, resolving the quandary. His reward was the promise of reconsidering Larss composition. The point that Lars had been coerced to perform a personally distasteful act by an established superior was accepted by the Court. To the charge that the abduction was premeditated, Lars explained that he had come upon the victim unexpectedly in an unprotected environment and acted spontaneously. He had, it was true, rendered her unconscious but without malice. She had not even suffered a bruise. She had been carefully conveyed to a place of security, with tools and instructions to provide daily food and shelter, so that she had been in no physical jeopardy. As she had left the premises of her own volition, she obviously had not been denied independence of decision and movement. He had not fraudulently represented himself as her rescuer for she had not required rescue, and she had requested his continued presence as a safeguard against further physical violence from any source on Optheria. He had not premeditated any sony dsc-w200 cyber-shot digital camera interference on her contractual obligation to her Guild for he had not only assisted her in repairing the damaged manual, her preemptive assignment, but he had also provided her with conclusive evidence to resolve the secondary assignment. He therefore restated his innocence. After Lars gave his testimony, Killashandra was called to the chair and had to exercise the greatest degree of control to suppress signs of the stress she felt. It didnt help to know that the sensitive psych equipment would record even the most minute tremors and uncertainties of its subject. That was its function and the results which the Monitor then analyzed against the psychological profile of each witness. Objectively she was pleased that her voice didnt quaver as she supported Larss testimony on each count, managing to publicly absolve him from felonious assault as he was, in fact, acting even when he abducted her in her best interests, contractually and personally. She kept her answers concise and unemotional. Subjectively she had never been so terrified of any experience. And the equipment would record that as well. Trag and Olav had their turns in the witness chair. Each time the subliminal manipulation was mentioned, there was a significant pause in the flow of questions, though there was no hint of how this information was being received and analyzed by the Judicial Monitor, since, in point of law, this part of everyones testimony was irrelevant to the case at hand. When Olav resumed his seat between Trag and Lars, the Bailiff approached the screen. They could all see the activity of the terminal but the pattern of its flashing lights disclosed nothing. Killashandra, holding Larss hand, jumped an inch above her chair when the contralto voice began its summation. With the exception of felonious assault, the charges against the accused, Lars Dahl, are dismissed. Killashandra swallowed. Criminal intent is not apparent but disciplinary action is required by law. Lars Dahl, you are remanded into the custody of the Judicial Branch, pending disposition of the disciplinary action. You are further remanded for examination of the charge of subliminal manipulation against the Elders of Optheria. Olav Dahl, you are seconded to assist these investigations, which have now been initiated. Trag Morfane, Killashandra Ree, have you anything to add to your recorded testimonies on the charge of subliminal manipulation by the Elders of Optheria?

Or far Elysian plain, shall we meet those

of the FSP, vocal arts are much admired, and a Stellar soloist highly respected. Optheria places more value on the most complex of instruments. Larss tone was of mild reproof. The sensory organ combines sound, olfactory and tactile sensations to produce a total orchestration of alternate reality for the participant. Is the organ limited to Optheria? Ive never encountered one before in all my voyaging. It is unique to Optheria. Which certainly has many unique experiences for the visitor. Mirbethans pace, and her erect back, seemed to reflect at once her approval, and shock, at their conversation. Why, then, Captain Dahl, if you have studied to use the organ, are you sailing about in the islands? Because, Guildmember, my composition was ah not approved by the Masters who pass judgment on such aspirations, so I returned to my previous occupation. To be sure, I am selfishly glad, Captain for who would have rescued me had you not been in those waters? Killashandra sighed deeply just as they turned the corridor into the hall she did recognize . Mirbethan? The woman whirled, her expression composed though she was breathing rather rapidly. By any chance, I mean, I know Ive been gone a good while, but I do hope that those beverages Your catering facility has been completely stocked with the beverages of your choice. And the chimes have been turned off? Mirbethan nodded. And the catering unit instructed to supply proper-size portions of food without requiring additional authorization? Thank you. I, for one, am starving. Sea air, you know. With a final smile, Killashandra swept through the door Lars held open. By the time he had shut it, she had discovered four ceiling surveillance units in the main salon. I am quite weary, Captain. With due respect, Guildmember, you did not eat much of the evening meal, perhaps a light supper The variety on the catering unit seems geared to student requirements unless you, having spent time here, can make a suggestion. Indeed I would be delighted to, Guildmember. Lars located several more as they moved through the suite to the two bedrooms. He peered into the first bathing room and grinned broadly at her. May I draw you a bath? An excellent idea. She strode to what was evidently the one room night vision digital camera that had been left unmonitored. Lars began filling the tub, having turned the taps on full. He reached into his tunic and extracted an innocuous metal ball. A deceiver, Father calls it. It distorts picture and sound we can be quite free once its operating. And when we leave the suite, he grinned, miming the device returned to his pocket itll drive their technicians wild. Wont they realize that the distortion only works when were here? I suggest that tomorrow you complain about being monitored in the bedroom. Can we cope with just one free room? He began to undress her, his expression intense with anticipation. Two, Killashandra corrected him with a coy moue as the bright and elegant overall Teradia had chosen for her fell in a rainbow puddle at her feet. It was, of course, thoroughly soaked with the water displaced when Lars overbalanced her into the tub. When they had sated their appetites sufficiently, Killashandra idly described wet circles on the broad expanse of Larss chest. I think that with the best motives in the world, I have placed you in an awkward situation. Beloved Killashandra, when you sprang that, and he aptly mimicked her voice, I have no fear of being assaulted with Captain Dahl beside me, I nearly choked. I felt you quaking, but I didn t know if it was laughter or outrage. And then suggesting that someone else had instigated the attack to implicate islanders Killashandra, I wouldnd have missed that for anything. You really got mine back on the flatulent fardling. But watch him, Killa. Hes dangerous. Once he and Torkes start comparing notes They still have to get that organ fixed in time for all those lucky little composers to practice their pieces. Im here and even if a replacement is coming, its the old bird-in-the-hand. Yes, and theyve got to have done all the Mainland concerts to ensure a proper Optherian attitude toward visitors. Proper attitude? Mainland concerts? What do you mean? Lars held her slightly away from him in the capacious bath, reading her face and eyes. You dont know? You dont really know why that organ is so important to the Elders? Well, I do know that the set-up will produce an intense emotional experience for the listener. It verges on illegal manipulation. Lars gave a sour laugh. Verges? It is. But then you

Beneath this cold slab, he

Killashandra considerable satisfaction that she had managed to confound an entire Optherian crew. They had stood in great need of such a lesson. She relaxed into the cushioned back of the chair. There isnt an islander in this Archipelago who would do you any injury, Guildmember, Olav continued, now offering her a finely stitched handkerchief. Especially after the news of your devoted nursing of the Bar Island injured. When I consider how unselfishly you volunteered to assist, and you only an hour away from being rescued, why, we are all in your debt. Shielding her face from Torkes with the handkerchief, Killashandra looked up at Olav. She blotted the last of the tears she could manage to squeeze out. She had received his message. She gave a sniff, then exhaled in a huge sigh. What else could I do? Their need was far greater than mine for I had suffered no real physical injury. It was excellent therapy, and she managed that on a rush of breath, for me to tend those less fortunate than I. And I do feel safe with you, Harbor Master, and with Captain Dahl! She touched each man on the arm, favoring them with a tremulous smile. Lars managed to give her shoulder an admonitory pinch which, she felt, indicated that she had milked this scene for all it was worth. I hope you didnt encounter that ferocious storm on your way here, Elder Torkes? Not at all, Guildmember. In fact, Torkes cleared his throat nervously, we didnt set out until sure that the hurricane had dwindled. I ought to have listened to Mirbethans representations, Captain he turned to the senior officer behind him for she offered to accompany us, Guildmember, on the slim chance that we would discover you here. How very kind of her. She would have been an ideal companion to settle your nerves, Guildmember. Yes, she was most considerate but, though I appreciate her willingness, I now insist on someone she waved a negligent hand in Larss direction, who is capable of managing himself in difficulties. I have seen Captain Dahl in action, fighting to bring his ship close enough to take me off that island, and in dealing with high seas, and injured people. And that should be the end of that notion. Had it been Mirbethans? Or Ampriss? From whichever source, shed not spend credit on it. If I may suggest it, Guildmember, would you be feeling recovered enough to dine now? Olav asked, deftly changing the subject. Or should Captain Dahl escort you to the quarters prepared for you here hp photosmart m627 digital camera specifications in the residence? Why, yes, Killashandra said, extending her hand to Lars and smiling graciously at Olav, I think that perhaps hunger is at the root of my deplorable temper. Im not usually so easily upset, citizens. Now that the scene had been played, she was ravenous and hoped that Olavs hospitality would be to the standard she expected. It was, and she was seated on Olavs right at the beautifully appointed banquet table. Torkes was opposite her, Teradia appearing at his right hand. Evidently she had merely had to change her gown. Killashandra did wonder how she had arrived so promptly. Other charmingly dressed ladies partnered the officers of Torkess retinue and from some discreet corner delicate music wafted to the diners ears. The food was sumptuous, a feat, considering the island had so recently been in the throes of a hurricane. As Killashandra sampled the many dishes presented, she realized that the components were not as varied as the manner in which they had been prepared. Polly fruit, pulp, and heart was the basis of nine dishes. Smacker was served as a chowder, boiled, broiled, fried in a delicious light batter and in a rich piquant sauce. The largest yellowbacks she had yet seen had been lightly broiled with slivered nuts. A succulent mollusk was offered, grilled with a dollop of some flavor enhancer. There were salads of greens, molded salads of some jellied vegetable, fruit, and fish. From the way in which Torkess officers filled their plates, and refilled them when the dishes were presented a second time, they werent used to eating. Torkes was abstemious by comparison although a fair trencherman away from Elder Pentroms dietary regimen. He did not refuse the wine, either, though his two senior captains did. When the first hunger was appeased, Torkes addressed Lars, his expression far too bland to be as affable as he sounded. Just where did you discover the Guildmember, Captain Dahl? On a polly islet slightly east of Bar Island. I dont normally pass by for its a bit off the regular trade route, but with the higher tides to give me clearance over the reef in that area, I could take a bit of a short cut to Bar, which I aimed to beach before sunset. Do you have this islet marked on your charts? Of course, Elder Torkes. I will show you its location immediately after dinner. Lars had one

No marcy he 'l show unto me, I know,

and sighed in long relief. "We are among friends, Dusty." He looked at the little man before him. "You must be Loukithe first plane tree in the square in Margaritha?" The little man beamed. He bowed, stretched out his hand. "Louki. At your service, sir." "And this, of course, is Panayis?" The tall man in the doorway, dark, saturnine, unsmiling, inclined his head briefly but said nothing. "You have us right!" The little man was beaming with delight. "Louki and Panayis. They know about us in Alexandria and Cairo, then?" he asked proudly. "Of course!" Mallory smothered a smile. "They spoke highly of you. You have been of great help to the Allies before." "And we will again," Louki said briskly. "Come, we are wasting time. The Germans are on the hills. What help can we give you?" "Food, Louki. We need foodwe need it badly." "We have it!" Proudly, Louki gestured at the rucksacks. "We were on our way up with it." "You were on your way. . . ." Mallory was astonished. "How did you know where we wereor even that we were on the island?" Louki waved a deprecating hand. "It was easy. Since first light German troops have been moving south through Margaritha up into the hills. All morning they combed the east col of Kostos. We knew someone must have landed, and that the Germans had blocked the cliff path on the south coast, at both ends. So you must have come over the west col. They would not expect thatyou fooled them. So we came to find you." - "But you would never have found us" "We would have found you." There was complete certainty in the voice. "Panayis and Iwe know every stone, every blade of grass in Navarone." Louki shivered suddenly, stared out bleakly through the swirling snow. "You couldn't have picked worse weather." "We couldn't have picked better," Mallory said grimly. "Last night, yes," Lould agreed. "No one would expect you in that wind and rain. No one would hear the aircraft or even dream that you would try to jump" "We came by sea," Miller interrupted. He waved a negligent hand. "We climbed the south cliff." "What? The south cliff!" Louki was frankly disbelieving. "No one could climb the south cliff. It is digital camera lens mount impossible!" "That's the way we felt when we were about half-way up," Mallory said candidly. "But Dusty, here, is right. That's how it was." Louki had taken a step back: his face was expressionless. "I say it is impossible," he repeated flatly. "He is telling the truth, Louki," Miller cut in quietly. "Do you never read newspapers?" "Of course I read newspapers!" Louki bristled with indignation. "Do you think I amhow you sayilliterate?" "Then think back to just before the war," Miller advised. "Think of mountaineerin'and the Himalayas. You must have seen his picture in the papersonce, twice, a hundred times." He- looked at Mallory consideringly. "Only he was a little prettier in those days. You must remember. This is Mallory, Keith Mallory of New Zealand." Mallory said nothing. He was watching Louki, the puzzlement, the ?omical screwing up of the eyes, head cocked to one side: then, all at once, something clicked in the little man's memory and his face lit up in a great, crinkling smile that swamped every last trace of suspicion. He stepped forward, hand outstretched in we!come. "By heaven, you are- right! Mallory! Of course I know Mallory!" He grabbed Mallory's hand, pumped it up and down with great enthusiasm. "It is indeed as the American says. You need a shave. . . . And you look older." "I feel older," Mallory said gloomily. He nodded at Miller. "This is Corporal Miller, an American citizen." "Another famous climber?" Louki asked eagerly. "Another tiger of the hills, yes?" "He climbed the south cliff as it has never been climbed before," Mallory answered truthfully. He glanced at his watch, then looked directly at Louki. "There are others up in the hifis. We need help, Louki. We need it badly and we need it at once. You know the danger if you are caught helping us?" "Danger?" Louki waved a contemptuous hand. "Danger to Louki and Panayis, the foxes of Navarone? Impossible! We are the ghosts of the night." He hitched his pack higher up on his shoulders. "Come. Let us take this food to your friends." "Just a minute." Mallory's restraining hand was on his arm. "There are two other things. We need heata stove and fuel, and we need" "Heat! A stove!" Louki was incredulous. "Your friends in the hifiswhat are they? A band of old women?" "And we also need bandages and medicine," Mallory went on patiently. "One of

Were it not for my sceptre and sword,

bent over the box, lifted it with an effort, half-walked, half-staggered round the fire, making for the screen. He had hardly taken three steps when Andrea was by his side, had relieved him firmly of the box and tucked it under one arm. "If you will permit me" "No, no!" Louki was affronted. "I can manage easily. It is nothing." "I know, I know," Andrea said pacifically. "But these explosivesthey must be carried a certain way. I have been trained," he explained. "So? I did not realise. Of course it must be as you say! I, then, will bring the detonators." Honour satisfied, Louki thankfully gave up the argument, lifted the little box and scuffled out of the cave close on Andrea's heels. Mallory looked at his watch. One o'clock exactly. Miller and Panayis should be back soon, he thought. The wind had passed its peak and the snow was almost gone: the going would be all that easier, but there would be tracks in the snow. Awkward, these tracks, but not fatalthey themselves would be gone before light, cutting straight downhill for the foot of the valley. The snow wouldn't lie thereand even if there were patches they could take to the stream that wound through the valley, leaving no trace behind. The fire was sinking and the cold creeping in on them again. Mallory shivered in his still wet clothes, threw some more wood on the fire, watched it blaze up, and flood the cave with light. Brown, huddled on a groundsheet, was already asleep. Stevens, his back to him, was lying motionless, his breathing short and quick. God only knew how long the boy would stay alive: he was dying, Miller said, but "dying" was a very indefinite term: when a man, a terribly injured, dying man, made up his mind not to die he became the toughest, most enduring creature on earth. Mallory had seen it happen before. But maybe Stevens didn't want to live. To live, to overcome these desperate injuriesthat would be to prove himself to himself, and to others, and he was young enough, and sensitive enough and had been hurt and had suffered so much in the past that that could easily be the most important thing in the world to him: on the other hand, he knew what an appalling handicap he had becomehe had heard Mallory say so; he knew, too, that Mallory's primary concern was not for his welfare but the fear that he would be captured, crack under pressure and tell everythinghe bad heard Mallory say so; and he knew that he had failed his Mends. It was all very canon powershot sd digital camera difficult, impossible to say how the balance of contending forces would work out eventually. Mallory shook his head, sighed, lit a fresh cigarette and moved closer to the fire. Andrea and Louki returned less than five minutes later, and Miller and Panayis were almost at their heels. They could hear Miller coming some distance away, slipping, falling and swearing almost continuously as he struggled up the gully under a large and awkward load. He practically fell across the threshold of the cave and collapsed wearily by the fire. He gave the impression of a man who had been through a very great deal indeed. Mallory grinned sympathetically at him. "Well, Dusty, how did it go? Hope Panayis here didn't slow you up too much." Miller didn't seem to hear him. He was gazing incredulously at the fire, lantern jaw dropping open as its significance slowly dawned on him. "Hell's teeth! Would you look at that!" He swore bitterly. "Here I spend half the gawddamned night climbing up a gawddamned mountain with a stove and enough kerosene to bath a bloody elephant. And what do I find?" He took a deep breath to tell them what he found, then subsided into a strangled, seething silence. "A man your age should watch his blood pressure," Mallory advised. "How did the rest of it go?" "Okay, I guess." Miller had a mug of ouzo in his hand and was beginning to brighten up again. "We got the beddin', the medicine kit" "If you'll give me the bedding I will get our young friend into it now," Andrea interrupted. "And food?" Mallory asked. "Yeah. We got the grub, boss. Stacks of it. This guy Panayis is a Wonder. Bread, wine, goat-cheese, garlic sausages, riceeverything." "Rice?" It was Mallory's turn to be incredulous. "But you can't get the stuff in the islands nowadays, Dusty." "Panayis can." Miller was enjoying himself hugely now. "He got it from the German commandant's kitchen. Guy by the name of Skoda." "The German commandant'syou're joking!" "So help me, boss, that's Gospel truth." Miller drained half the ouzo at a gulp and expelled his breath in a long, gusty sigh of satisfaction. "Little ol' Miller hangs around the back door, knees knockin' like Carmen Miranda's castanets, ready for a smart take off in any direction while Junior here goes in and cracks the joint. Back home in the States he'd make a fortune as a

Or have they robbed any virgin,

that Dusty Miller was on his way up. Another quarter of an hour elapsed, an interminable fifteen minutes when, in the lulls between the thunderclaps, every slightest sound was an approaching enemy patrol, before Miller materialised slowly out of the darkness, half-way down the rock chimney. He was climbing steadily and methodically, then checked abruptly at the cliff-top, groping hands pawing uncertainly on the topsoil of the cliff. Puzzled, Mallory bent down, peered into the lean face: both the eyes were clamped tightly shut. "Relax, Corporal," Mallory advised kindly. "You have arrived." Dusty Miller slowly opened his eyes, peered round at the edge of the cliff, shuddered and crawled quickly on hands and knees to the shelter of the nearest boulders. Mallory followed and looked down at him curiously. "What was the idea of closing your eyes coming over the top?" "I did not," Miller protested. Mallory said nothing. "I closed them at the bottom," Miller explained weanly. "I opened them at the top." Mallory looked at him incredulously. "What! All the way?" "It's like I told you, boss," Miller complained. "Back in Castelrosso. When I cross a street and step up on to the sidewalk I gotta hang on to the nearest lamp-post. More or less." He broke off, looked at Andrea leaning far out over the side of the cliff, and shivered again. "Brother! Oh brother! Was I scared!" Fear. Terror. Panic. Do the thing you fear and the death of fear is certain. Do the thing you fear and the death of fear is certain. Once, twice, a hundred times, Andy Stevens repeated the words to himself, over and over again, like a litany. A psychiatrist had told him that once and he'd read it a dozen times since. Do the thing you fear and the death of fear is certain. The mind is a limited thing, they had said. It can only hold one thought at a time, one impulse to action. Say to yourself, I am brave, I am overcoming this fear, this stupid, unreasoning panic which has no origin except in my own mind, and because the mind can only hold one thought at a time, and because thinking and feeling are one, then you will be brave, you will overcome and the fear will vanish like a shadow in the night. And so Andy Stevens camera digital new sony said these things to himself, and the shadows only lengthened and deepened, lengthened and deepened, and the icy claws of fear dug ever more savagely into his dull exhausted mind, into his twisted, knotted stomach. His stomach. That knotted ball of jangled, writhing nerve-ends beneath the solar plexus. No one could ever know how it was, how it felt, except those whose shredded minds were going, collapsing into complete and final breakdown. The waves of panic and nausea and faintness that flooded up through a suffocating throat to a mind dark and spent and sinewless, a mind fighting with woollen fingers to cling on to the edge of the abyss, a tired and lacerated mind, only momentarily in control, wildly rejecting the clamorous demands of a nervous system which had already taken far too much that he should let go, open the torn fingers that were clenched so tightly round the rope. It was just that easy. "Rest after toil, port after stormy seas." What was that famous stanza of Spenser's? Sobbing aloud, Stevens wrenched out another spike, sent it spinning into the waiting sea three hundred long feet below, pressed himself closely into the face and inched his way despairingly upwards. Fear. Fear had been at his elbow all his life, his constant companion, his alter ego, at his elbow, on in close prospect or immediate recall. He had become accustomed to that fear, at times almost reconciled, but the sick agony of this night lay far beyond either tolerance or familiarity. He had never known anything like this before, and even in his terror and confusion he was dimly aware that the fear did not spring from the climb itself. True, the cliff was sheer and almost vertical, and the lightning, the ice-cold rain, the darkness and the bellowing thunder were a waking nightmare. But the climb, technically, was simple: the rope stretched all the way to the top and all he had to do was to follow it and dispose of the spikes as he went. He was sick and bruised and terribly tired, his head ached abominably and he had lost a great deal of blood: but then, more often than not, it is in the darkness of agony and exhaustion that the spirit of man burns most brightly. Andy Stevens was afraid because his self-respect was gone. Always, before, that had been his sheet anchor, bad tipped the balance against his ancient enemythe respect in which other men had held him, the respect he had had for himself. But now these were gone, for his two greatest fears