way back to the
Chief's office. The Chief was sitting, tiny behind his big desk, his
face as serene as ever. He was puffing casually on one of the long
Hadriacum cigars.

Dark laughed.

"You don't have another of those cigars, do you?" he asked.

For the first time since he had been here, Dark saw the Chief's mouth
break into a full, broad smile.

"I think so," said the Chief, an undertone of delight bubbling in his
voice. He reached into the desk and pulled one out. Dark accepted it
gravely, and lit it.

"The last two evacuees haven't reported to the flower shop, and they're
overdue," said the Chief, his face getting serious. "Childress hasn't
reported back here by telephone, either, so the Marscorp gang probably
had already entered the building before he detected them and sounded the
alarm."

"What about Childress?" asked Dark. "What will happen to him?"

"He'll take the rap," answered the Chief. "His defense will be that if
there were any Phoenix activities going on here he didn't know about it.
He was just running a barber college in good faith. I don't think they
can prove otherwise."

"Do we have any idea what our situation is?" asked Dark.

"A very accurate idea. We have observers posted in the two houses at the
ends of our emergency exits, and they've been reporting to Fancher, in
the next room, by telephone. There's a force of about a hundred Mars
City policemen and plain-clothes agents in the streets all around the
building. They saw a squad go into the front, but evidently they didn't
have enough warning to let Childress know in time."

"Will the doors hold?"

The Chief's mouth quirked.

"They'll need demolition equipment to break them down," he said. "All
these have are heatguns and tear gas. One of the observers farther
downtown said he saw a tank heading this way, but if they don't already
know there are innocent customers in here, Childress will tell them."

"Then everybody gets away but Childress?"

"We hope. They're not going to ignore these surrounding houses,
especially with men drifting out of them and moving away. That's why I
want to stress the importance of one thing to you, Kensington: you're
too important for us to lose at this juncture, with your knowledge of
the original work done. That house at the end of your exit will have a
dozen or so of our men in it, waiting to drift away one by one, but you
can't afford to worry about them. I want you to get in that groundcar,
alone