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The swarm was stretching now, dividing the fast from the slow, as Kane reached the end of the hall. He rounded the turn in a clump of six.
Two police were parked indolently against opposite walls, steaming cups in their hands, their heads turned to see where the noise was coming from. For a magic moment they stayed that way .... and then their cups flew wide, trailing spiral nebulae of brown fluid, and their guns came up like flowing light. Harry Kane fell with a buzzing in his ears. But his last glimpse of the corridor showed him that the police were falling too.
He lay like a broken doll, with his head swimming and his eyes blurring and his body, as numb as a frozen plucked chicken. Feet pounded past and over him. Through the blanketing numbness he dimly sensed himself being kicked.
Abruptly four hands gripped his wrists and ankles, and he was off again, swaying and jouncing between his rescuers. Harry Kane was pleased. His opinion of mobs was low. This mob was behaving better than he had expected. Through the buzzing in his ears he heard a siren.
At the bottom of the stairs they reached the tail of the swarm--Laney in the lead, Matt and Jay Hood following. Matt panted, "Stay! Got ... gun."
Laney saw the point and slowed. Matt could guard the rear. If they tried to reach the front of the swarm, they'd be stuck in the middle, and the sonic would be useless.
But nobody came at them from the rear. There were noises ahead, and they passed sprawled bodies: one policeman, then a string of men and women in lab smocks. Matt found his stomach trying to turn inside out. The rebels' viciousness was appalling. So was Hood's grin: a tight killer's grin, making a lie of his scholar's face.
Ahead, more commotion. Two men stopped to lift a heavy sprawled figure and continued ru
A siren blared in the corridors. It was loud enough-to wake the Mist Demons, to send them screaming into the sky for a little peace. It jarred the concrete; it shook the very bones of a man. There was a rattling clang, barely heard above the siren. An iron door bad dropped into the swarm, cutting it in two. One man was emphatically dead beneath it. The tail of the swarm, including perhaps a dozen men and women, washed against the steel door and rebounded.
Trapped. The other end of the corridor was also blocked. But doors lined both sides. One man took off, ru
It was a lounge, a relaxation room, furnished with four wide couches, scattered chairs, two card tables, and a huge coffee dispenser. And a picture window. As Matt reached the door, the window already gaped wide, showing sharp glass teeth. The man who'd found the room was using a chair to clean the glass away.
An almost soundless hum-and Matt felt the numbness of a sonic beamer. From the doorway! He slammed the door and it stopped.
Automatics?
"Be
Hood had found a closet and opened it. It was like opening Pandora's box. Matt saw half-a-dozen men in white smocks swarm over Hood. In seconds they would have torn him to ribbons. Matt used his sonic. They all went down in a lump, including Hood. Matt pulled him out, draped him over a shoulder, and followed the others over the couch. Hood was heavier than he looked.
Matt had to drop him on the grass and follow him down. Far across the lawn was the Hospital wall, leaning outward, the top laced with wires that leaned inward. Very thin wire, just barely visible through the thin fog. Matt picked Hood up, glanced around, saw the others ru
They reached a corner--the Hospital seemed to have a million corners--stopped sharply, and backed up, milling. Guards coming? Matt put Hood down, hefted his sonic--
A gun and hand emerged questing from the broken picture window. Matt fired and the man slumped. But he knew there must be others in there. Matt ducked beneath the window, rose suddenly, and fired in. Half-a-dozen police fired back. Matt's right side and arm went numb; he dropped the gun, then himself dropped below the sill. In a moment they'd be peering over. The man named Be
The men inside hadn't expected Be
Be
"Do they know we're here?"
"I don't think so. The Mist Demons have given us a mist." Be
"Good. We can use these guns. You'll have to carry Jay; my arm's out."
"Jay's the only one who can fly."
"I can," said Matt.
"Major Jansen. Sound 'Prisoners Loose.'"
The sound of the siren came instantly, even before Jesus Pietro could change his mind. For a moment he was sure, preternaturally sure, that he'd made a fool of him self. This could cost him much face...
But no. Keller must be freeing the prisoners. Keller wasn't here; therefore Keller was free. His first move would be to free the other Sons of Earth. If the vivarium guard had stopped him, he would then have called here; he hadn't called; hence Keller had succeeded.
But if Keller were harmlessly asleep in the vivarium? Nonsense. Why had the guards forgotten about him? They were behaving too much like Hobart had behaved last night. A miracle had been worked, a miracle of the kind Jesus Pietro was begi
It must have been used to free Keller.
And the halls must be full of angry rebels.
That was very bad. Implementation had motives for using mercy-weapons. Rebels had none--neither mercy weapons nor mercy-motives. They'd kill whoever got in their way.
The steel doors would be in place now, vibrating in sleep-producing frequencies. By now the danger would be over--almost certainly. Unless the rebels had first gotten out of the halls.
But what damage had they done already?
"Come with me," Jesus Pietro told the two guards. He marched toward the door. "Keep your guns drawn," he added over his shoulder.
The guards snapped out of their stupor and ran to catch up. They had not the faintest idea what was going on, but Jesus Pietro was sure they'd recognize a colonist in time to down him. They'd be adequate protection.
One dozen colonists, two stu
Matt stayed hidden behind the corner, reluctantly obeying Be
Matt would have fought the carport guards, but he couldn't fight the logic. Because he was the only one who could fly a car, he had to stay behind while the others charged out onto the field with their sonics going.
The carport was a big, flat expanse of lawn, a variant of mutant grass, which could take an infinite amount of trampling. Lines of near-white crossed the green, outlining landing targets. The white too was grass. Cars rested near the centers of two of the targets. Men moved about the cars, servicing them and removing metal canisters from the underbellies. The mist hung four feet above the grass under diffuse sunlight, curling about the rebels as they ran.