any length of time to be contaminated by Mother Corey, so the smell
could only come from one place.

He checked the batteries on his suit and put it on quickly. There was no
point in wearing the helmet inside the dome, but it was better than
trying to rent one at the lockers. He buckled it to a strap. The knife
slid into its sheath, and the gun holster snapped onto the suit. As a
final thought, he picked up the stout locust stick he'd used under
Murdoch.

There were no cabs outside tonight, of course. The streets were almost
deserted, except for some prowler or desperation-driven drug addict. He
proceeded cautiously, however, realizing that it would be just like
Sheila to ambush him. But he reached the exit from the dome with no
trouble.

"Special pass to leave at this hour," the guard there reminded him. "Of
course, if it's urgent, pal..."

Gordon was in no mood to try bribes. He let his hand drop to the gun.
"Police Sergeant Gordon, on official business," he said curtly. "Get the
hell out of my way."

The guard thought it over, and reached for the release. Gordon swung
back as he passed through. "And you'd better be ready to open when I
come back."

He was in comparative darkness almost at once, and tonight there was no
sign of the lights of patrolling cops. Then three specks of glaring blue
light suddenly appeared in the sky, jerking his eyes up. They were
dropping rapidly.

Rockets that flamed bright blue--military rockets! Earth was finally
taking a hand!

He crouched in a hollow that had once been some kind of a basement until
the ships had landed and cut off their jets. Then he stood up, blinking
his eyes until they could again make out the pattern of the dim bulbs.
He'd seen enough by the rocket glare to know that he was headed right.
And finally the ugly half-cylinder of patched brick and metal that was
the old Mother Corey's Chicken Coop showed up against the faint light.

He moved in cautiously, as silently as he could, and located the
semi-secret entrance to the building without meeting anyone. Once in the
tunnel that led to the building, he felt a little safer.

He removed his helmet, and strapped it to the back of his suit, out of
the way. The old hall was in worse shape than before. Mother Corey had
run a somewhat orderly place, with constant vigilance; Bruce Gordon
could never have come into the hallway without being seen in the old
days.

Then a pounding sound came from the second floor,