a core of gasoline-soaked rags. Directly above the heaped
tinder a taut rope stretched from the window post to a child's wagon,
the steel bed of which contained a second heap of combustibles. The
wagon hung half over the ragged edge of the floor.

"It should take about fifteen minutes for the fire to burn through the
rope," Brett said. "Then the wagon will fall and dump the hot coals in
the gasoline. By then it will have spread all over the surface and
flowed down side tunnels into other parts of the cavern system."

"But it may not get them all."

"It will get some of them. It's the best we can do right now. You get
the fire going in the wagon; I'll start this one up."

Dhuva sniffed the air. "That fluid," he said. "We know it in Wavly as
phlogistoneum. The wealthy use it for cooking."

"We'll use it to cook Gels." Brett struck a match. The fire leaped up,
smoking. Dhuva watched, struck his match awkwardly, started his blaze.
They stood for a moment watching. The nylon curled and blackened,
melting in the heat.

"We'd better get moving," Brett said. "It doesn't look as though it will
last fifteen minutes."

They stepped out into the street. Behind them wisps of smoke curled from
the door. Dhuva seized Brett's arm. "Look!"

Half a block away the fat man in the panama hat strode toward them at
the head of a group of men in grey flannel. "That's him!" the fat man
shouted, "the one I told you about. I knew the scoundrel would be back!"
He slowed, eyeing Brett and Dhuva warily.

"You'd better get away from here, fast!" Brett called. "There'll be an
explosion in a few minutes--"

"Smoke!" the fat man yelped. "Fire! They've set fire to the city! There
it is! pouring out of the window ... and the door!" He started forward.
Brett yanked the pistol from the holster, thumbed back the hammer.

"Stop right there!" he barked. "For your own good I'm telling you to
run. I don't care about that crowd of golems you've collected, but I'd
hate to see a real human get hurt--even a cowardly one like you."

"These are honest citizens," the fat man gasped, standing, staring at
the gun. "You won't get away with this. We all know you. You'll be dealt
with ..."

"We're going now. And you're going too."

"You can't kill us all," the fat man said. He licked his lips. "We won't
let you destroy our city."

* * *

As the fat man turned to exhort his followers Brett fired, once twice,
three times. Three golems fe