But Ronny was shaking his head. “Teucer’s no spy from the Hippolyte.”
Zeke glared at him, coming to his feet. “What are you talking about? Of course he’s a spy.”
“No. I came to warn you, and we’d better get out of here quickly. The Hippolyte’s people had me put under Scop this morning. I spilled practically everything I knew about my mission, those who sent me, and the Sons of Liberty and their program.”
“What!”
Ronny held up a hand. “But the thing is, they had never heard of your organization before. So they could hardly have sent Teucer in as a spy.”
“They were lying!”
Ronny shook his head. “No they weren’t. They were flabbergasted when the drug brought the fact from me that you existed.”
Zeke was breathing deeply. “You gave them this address, you flat?”
Ronny said evenly, “I was under Scop. I think I still am, at least partially.”
Zeke’s small eyes narrowed further. “Oh, you are, eh? Listen, is the Octagon going to send help to us?”
“I dont know,” Ronny said. He tried to keep control of himself but his voice was slipping into the Zombie- inflection.
“Is it most likely they will?”
“Yes.”
“How soon?”
“Probably as soon as a report from me gets back.”
“How were you to transmit your report?”
“Through my Section G communicator.”
“Have you sent any report at all, thus far?”
“No.” Ronny Bronston could feel the blisters of cold sweat on his face as he tried to fight the truth serum, but it was useless. He could have tried rushing the other, but Zeke was armed and strong, and the Section G operative was still not fully recovered from his bout with his alcohol antidote.
“Why not?” Zeke pressed.
“My communicator was broken, when someone searched my room.”
Zeke thought about it for a moment, even as he muttered, “I got to get out of here.” He said, “When you report, who is it to?”
“Sid Jakes.”
Zeke’s face worked in thought, and his breathing came deeper. He nudged the boy at his feet with a toe and the other stirred. “Wake up, damn it!”
He looked back at Ronny again, something obviously suddenly occuring to him. “Holy Zen! they had you. How’d you get away?”
“I was in a hospital. They had taken me there to question me. After half an hour, they decided it was necessary to inform the Hippolyte of what they’d learned. So they left me under guard in a room. The guards stood outside. However, there was another door. A girl named Minythyia came through it.”
“Minythyia! Are you sure of that name?”
“Yes. She came out to the
“Minythyia!”
“Yes,” Ronny said, still zombie-like.
“All right, what happened?”
“She got me out of the hospital and drove me to the apartment of a friend. Then she left me there, under orders not to leave. She went to secure an alibi.”
“Do you know who Minythyia is?”
“She is one of the warriors who—”
“Do you know who else she is?”
“No.”
“She’s the drivel-happy daughter of the Hippolyte, you cloddy!”
There were sounds from the street. Zeke shot his eyes in that direction, then down at the boy who was now beginning to come to his feet.
“Get moving, Tanais. There’s a back way out.”
Tanais began stumbling toward the back. There was a pounding at the front door, as though of more than one fist.
Zeke took after the boy, his eyes looking over his shoulder, glowering desperately at the source of the noise.
Ronny began to follow.
Thick lips pulled back over the revolutionist’s stained teeth. The shooter came up. “You stay here, my stute friend. You stay here.”
Ronny came to a halt, staring. He motioned with his head. “But that’ll be the Hippolyte’s police.”
Zeke was at the back door through which Teucer had disappeared some ten minutes before. They could hear a splintering sound from the front.
Zeke’s gun came up slowly, his teeth were still bared. He said, snarl in his voice, “That’s right. We couldn’t let you fall into their hands again, could we, fella?”
Ronny spun in desperation, the charge from the other’s gun missing him infinitesimally, crumbling the stone of the doorway in which he had been standing.
He was out of range of the other’s fire, back again in the room where he had found Teucer. Zeke was going to have to come and get him if he wanted another shot, and Zeke didn’t have the time. The front door came down with a crash.
In fact, Zeke was already most likely gone. If he wasn’t then Ronny’s next move was sudden death.
Because he came charging out again, into the patio from which he had just stepped in retreat, ten seconds earlier.
His gamble had paid off. Zeke and Tanais were gone.
Ronny sped for the door through which the two Sons of Liberty had just passed. He had danger before and danger behind, and why he chose the first he had no idea.
X
Had it not been for the sounds of Zeke and his young companion before him, he probably would never have found the way of retreat. The building was a meandering one, something in the nature of a Spanish or Mexican habitation of early times. The wall on Heliopolis Street had been blank, save for the door. From the outside, there was little to indicate what lay within.
Within was surprisingly extensive. There were three small patios in all, with numerous rooms of varying size leading off. It had been a sumptuous house, in its time; now it was run down.
In a way, it was a labyrinth and a person unfamiliar with the windings of its halls and walks could have become temporarily lost.
Ronny pounded after the faint sounds of Zeke and Tanais, running as softly, himself, as he could. He didn’t know whether the girl warriors behind him had actually seen him or not. But in any case they would spread through this building in brief moments. He had to get out.
Suddenly he could hear Zeke no longer.
The other had either paused, waiting for Ronny and for another shot at him, or he had passed out of the house and made his escape.
The only alternative Ronny could accept was the latter. He continued to run in the direction he had last heard the Sons of Liberty head who had so strangely and murderously turned on him. He came abruptly to a narrow door and instinctively knew that beyond lay the street. In fact, he could hear the sounds of a hovercar lifting and then
