* * * * *

A quick decision was necessary, and Mich'l acted without hesitation.
The guard had rolled over on his back, so that his face was out of the
water, and he was breathing with quick, painful gasps. Mich'l dragged
him up under the concealing shelter of the fountain spray, and there
changed clothes with him. In the meantime the flowing water washed
away the red stain of blood. When the captain returned with his guard,
Mich'l was lying realistically in the pool, apparently deep in drugged
sleep, the little kepi tilted rakishly over his face.

He was roughly seized and dragged out of the water to the
accompaniment of much cursing. A fist crashed into his face.

Suddenly the soldiers felt the supine figure under their hands explode
into energy. Elbows and fists seemed to fly from all directions at
once. A needle-ray appeared, and before they could draw their own
weapons they were howling with pain as searing welts drew over their
bodies. With one accord they plunged into the pool. Only the officer
remained, and he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon half raised, the
small black hole in his chest giving off a burnt odor.

Mich'l appropriated the officer's brassard of rank, and, menacing the
cowed guards, forced them to herd into a nearby room, carrying the
body of the officer with them. Mich'l locked the door and looked
around. He saw no one observing him, and could count on carrying a
pretty good bluff in his uniform, which was rapidly shedding its
water. With a firm step Mich'l walked to Lane Mollon's door, threw it
open, and entered.

* * * * *

Lane sat up on his couch, his feet striking the floor with an angry
thump. But when he recognized Mich'l he paled slightly.

"Where is she?" Mich'l demanded roughly, "before I burn you down!"

"You said once," Lane began sneeringly, "that you wanted to fight me.
Now, if you'll just put down that--"

"Not now," Mich'l dissented with deadly coldness. "Where is Nida?
Speak fast."

Lane did so.

"She isn't here. The little short[2] crowned me with a chair, and
slipped out. How did I--"

[Footnote 2: Short--trouble-maker, spitfire. A colloquialism probably
growing out of the once frequently used electrical term
"short-circuit."]

"When? Hurry up!"

"Hardly an hour ago. She walked down the corridor, showed a
thick-witted guard my own executive pass, and got away. But I got that
guard--"

"Never