They circled for minutes this way. And Floyd was still just as fast, striking with impunity. But the red monster was going slower and slower, arms lower and lower as the endless blows drove the strength from them. He must have realized that there could be only one end to this battle, on these terms. But he was still dangerous. Almost by chance the struggle moved towards me.

He was after me I realized! I had only the shortest instant to draw my leg back before Iron John spun about and dived towards me.

And caught my kick full in his face. He dropped-but his hands closed on my ankle, pulled me towards him. Reached up…

Then Floyd struck. No science now – raw power. Pile driver blows to the giant’s back and kidneys that opened his mouth wide with pain, forcing him to release me as he struggled to get away from his tormentor.

More blows to his head. He tried to rise, his legs were kicked from beneath him. The thudding of quick strikes like some terrible machine at work. Then a sudden silence.

A moment for balance, no expression showing on his face, then Floyd swung a terrible kick that terminated on the side of the giant’s head. Who fell over and did not rise nor move again.

“Dead?” I croaked. Floyd knelt and felt the pulse in his neck.

“No, he wasn’t supposed to be. He’ll survive. But I think that he will remember he has been in a fight.” He flashed a quick smile, then his face became calm again. “If you’re all right I’ll look at Steengo.”

“I’m great. Knocked about but great,” I croaked as I climbed painfully to my feet.

“Pulse good,” he said, kneeling beside our friend. “He has taken a lot of punishment but nothing seems to be broken that I can find. He will come out of this fine.”

I was groggy, now even weaker with relief, blurted out the words without thinking.

“He’s fine. I’m fine. However we would have been a lot better if you had waded into this fracas sooner.”

I saw him wince at the words, wished I could take them back. You never can.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I had to wait, see what he could do. I know that you’re good, Jim. I knew you could at least hold him. I’m sorry but I had to see how fast he could move before I took him on. I had to wear him down, not get touched. I knew I could do it-and I moved as soon as I knew. Sorry…”

“Reporting,” our guard-guy – girl said. “The Red One is unconscious.”

She lowered the small, coin-sized communicator as I stalked towards her, hands out and ready to strike.

“Who were you talking to? Whose side are you on? What’s happening here? Speak-or get demolished.”

The guard, spear lowered and pointed at me, stood her ground. “The answer to your questions is arriving now. There.” The point of her spear moved to indicate a spot behind me. A ruse? Who knew, who cared. I turned and looked at Iron John’s giant throne.

Which was slowly turning on some invisible axis. Floyd and I both faced that way, hands raised automatically on the defense. A black opening was revealed and, as the throne stopped moving, there was motion in the darkness beyond. Two figures appeared, walked out into the room.

Both women.

One of them was Madonette.

“Hi, guys,” she said, smiling and waving. “I’d like to introduce a new friend, Mata.”

The woman was about my height, regal of bearing in her dark robe touched with gold embroidery. Her expression was composed, peaceful; small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, a touch of gray to her hair, were the only signs of age.

“Welcome to the other side of Paradise, Jim,” she said-and held out her hand. Her handshake was firm and quick. I opened my mouth but could not think of anything relevant to say.

“I know that you have many questions.” Her words filled the gap. “M of which xill be answered. But it would be wisest to postpone our little chat until we are out of this place. A moment, please.”

She took a very efficient-looking hypodermic from the reticule hanging at her waist. Uncapped it and bent to brush aside the thick hair on his leg to give Iron John a quick injection.

“He will sleep the better,” she said. “Bethuel-will you lead the way?”

The guard raised her spear in a quick salute, then marched resolutely past the throne and into the opening. Madonette touched Steengo’s cheek, then waved Floyd to her. “Help me carry him. Jim will have enough to do just moving himself.”

I resented the remark-a blotch on my masculine pride but before I could stumble over they had lifted him and were following the guard, Bethuel.

There were no lights in the tunnel behind the throne. At least none until Mata had entered behind us and sealed it once again. Pale illumination flickered into existence. More than enough to see by. Nor was it a long walk to the open door at the far end. We emerged into a large, red brick room that could have been a mirror-image of the one that we had just left.

Just in physical size, though. Here the walls were covered by pleasant hangings, tapestries of sunshine and floral landscapes. Instead of the swords and shields that adorned the other. The stained-glass windows here depicted scenes of mountains and valleys, villages and forests. Unlike Iron John’s windows which featured the clash of battle, spackle of gore. This was altogether more civilized.

As was the murmur of concerned voices from the women in attendance here. They tenderly carried Steengo to a couch where another woman, dressed in white, ministered to him. I dropped into the nearest chair and scowled around at all the female bustle. My voice, louder and more censorious than I had intended, cut through the peaceful scene.

“Now would somebody, anybody, tell me just what the hell is going on.”

The way I was ignored was comment enough in itself. Though a smiling girl did bring me a glass of cool -vine-on the way to serve the others. Madonette sat next to Mata, where they put their heads together for a moment before Madonette spoke.

“First-and most important now that you all are safe – is the fact that the artifact is here and is being looked after. In addition there is – ”

“Excuse if I interrupt,” I said. “A matter of priority.” I clamped my jaw twice. “Did you hear that, Tremearne?” His answer buzzed in my jawbone.

“I did, and… ”

“Priorities, Captain.” I spoke quietly so only he could hear. “Mission complete. Alien artifact returned. Antidote for me on its way down. Nine days is close enough to come. Do you understand all that?”

“Of course. But there is a complication…”

“Complication!” I could hear the squeak of fear edging my voice. “What?”

“I sent for the antidote to the thirty-day poison as soon as I heard about it. I had no intention of waiting until the deadline to administer it. However there was an accident in transit.” Sweat suddenly beaded my forehead and my toes tapped anxiously on the floor. “These things happen. I’ve sent for a second batch and it’s en route now.”

I cursed viciously under my breath, then realized that I was the object of more than one concerned glance. Smiled woodenly and snarled my answer.

“Do it. Get it. No excuses. Now. Understood.”

“Understood.”

“Fine.” I stopped whispering and called out. “I’m most cheered to hear that the artifact has been found. Now, if you please, an explanation of what all this is about.”

“Seems obvious,” Madonette said undoubtedly miffed by my surly behavior. “It looks like the ladies have saved your bacon and you should be grateful.”

Which did nothing to clear the air. “As I recall,” I recalled. “It was the gentlemen – at some physical cost I must add-who polished off that russet rottweiler before you all came onto the scene. I also remember that we were watched all the time during the life-and-death struggle by one of your lot who did nothing to help.”

The tough answer sprang to her lips and I snarled around at the female company. Tempers flared on all sides but Mata cooled things down.