kly
around him, their gun tubes up, jabbing into him. He was searched
rapidly, efficiently. His gun belt and concealed energy screen were
yanked off.

"What's going on?" Sherikov demanded, some color returning to his
face. "What are you doing?"

"You're under arrest for the duration of the war. You're relieved of
all authority. From now on one of my men will operate Designs. When
the war is over you'll be tried before the Council and President
Duffe."

Sherikov shook his head, dazed. "I don't understand. What's this all
about? Explain it to me, Commissioner. What's happened?"

Reinhart signalled to his police. "Get ready. We're going into the
lab. We may have to shoot our way in. The variable man should be in
the area of the bomb, working on the control turret."

Instantly Sherikov's face hardened. His black eyes glittered, alert
and hostile.

Reinhart laughed harshly. "We received a counter-intelligence report
from Centaurus. I'm surprised at you, Sherikov. You know the
Centaurans are everywhere with their relay couriers. You should have
known--"

Sherikov moved. Fast. All at once he broke away from the police,
throwing his massive body against them. They fell, scattering.
Sherikov ran--directly at the wall. The police fired wildly. Reinhart
fumbled frantically for his gun tube, pulling it up.

Sherikov reached the wall, running head down, energy beams flashing
around him. He struck against the wall--and vanished.

"Down!" Reinhart shouted. He dropped to his hands and knees. All
around him his police dived for the floor. Reinhart cursed wildly,
dragging himself quickly toward the door. They had to get out, and
right away. Sherikov had escaped. A false wall, an energy barrier set
to respond to his pressure. He had dashed through it to safety. He--

From all sides an inferno burst, a flaming roar of death surging over
them, around them, on every side. The room was alive with blazing
masses of destruction, bouncing from wall to wall. They were caught
between four banks of power, all of them open to full discharge. A
trap--a death trap.

* * * * *

Reinhart reached the hall gasping for breath. He leaped to his feet. A
few Security police followed him. Behind them, in the flaming room,
the rest of the company screamed and struggled, blasted out of
existence by the leaping bursts of power.

Reinhart assembled his remaining men. Already, Sherikov's guards were
forming. At one