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  "And we'll have to get out of here to be able to use those. If we leave, that thing below will know it at once."

  "Which leaves us only one answer-we'll have to split up for now. You and Rolth take the outside route down and see what you can do in the general melee. Fylh and I shall hold the fort and try to make two think as four."

  Kartr could see the wisdom in that. As humans Rolth and he would have a better chance of getting cooperation from the rebels. At the same time the Bemmy scouts would be safe from ruthless shooting.

  The climb down to the roof top across which Smitt had come was ridiculously easy. They paused there long enough to pull on their boots, and then snaked over it from shadow to shadow. When they reached the parapet Rolth looked over. Then he dropped back and put his lips close to Kartr's ear.

  "One floor below there is a ledge. It leads to a lighted window. The drop is sheer, I do not think that anyone who may be in that room would expect company to arrive through the window-"

  "And how do you reach the ledge?"

  "Our belts hooked together and passed around this-here-" The Faltharian put his hand on a toothshaped projection ornamenting the parapet.

  If Kartr had an instant picture of what it meant to dangle so precariously over the edge of a sheer drop he did not betray himself.

  "It is good that we are both tall." Rolth buckled his belt to the one the sergeant reluctantly passed over.

  "A short man could not make it."

  The Faltharian slipped the loop in one end of his improvised rope over the projection and climbed over the parapet. Holding his body at an angle he half slid, half walked down the stone. Kartr huddled against the edge and forced himself to watch. Then Rolth stopped and the belt swung loosely in the sergeant's fingers.

  Not so skillfully as Rolth, Kartr made the same trip, keeping his eyes fast on the stone before him, trying not to think of the darkness below. He inched downward for an eternity and then Rolth's hand pulled him straight and his boots touched the path of the ledge. He found that it was wider than it appeared from above, he could get all but a small scrap of heel onto it.

  "Anyone in the room?" Rolth demanded as they crept toward the window.

  Kartr sent out the probe. "Not in the room-near though-"

  The Faltharian answered that with a ghost of laughter. "We're almost as good as some of Fylh's feathered friends. Here goes!" He caught at the window frame and pulled himself against it, jamming open the casement with his knee. It gave a faint squeak of protest and Rolth landed lightly on his feet within where Kartr joined him a second later.

  They were in a chamber where someone was at home. A pile of bedding lay on a bunk bed which had been obviously torn out of ship's fittings. Two expensive Valcunite luggage bags stood against the wall and a table, also ship use, was piled almost to the sagging point with personal belongings.

  Rolth's nostrils wrinkled. "What a stink!" he commented under his breath.

  Kartr tried to remember where he had smelled that too-sweet cura blossom fragrance before.

  "Fortus Kan!" When they had run against the secretary in the corridor that morning he had certainly carried cura lily with him.

  And as if that identification had been either a summons or an entrance cue, the Vice-Sector Lord's man was coming toward them now. Kartr had warning enough to plaster himself back against the wall by the door, and Rolth, seeing his move, did the same on the other side of the portal.

  There was apprehension to be read in the mind of the man who was fumbling with the intricate ancient fastening. Fortus Kan was afraid. The fastening was defying him, too, so that exasperation began to drown out the fear. He lost command enough to kick the panel as it gave. With such a medley of emotions uncovered it would be easy for Kartr to-

  The sergeant allowed him four steps into the room before he put the flat of his hand against the door and sent it shut again. Fortus Kan spun around-to face the small and deadly mouths of two Patrol blasters. And at the sight all his resistance crumbled at once.

  "Please!" His hands went up to his working mouth. He retreated backward, without looking where he was going, until the cot caught him behind the knees and he plumped down upon it as if he were as boneless as a Lydian gelisar.

  As Kartr walked toward him the little man cringed as if he wanted to burrow into the tangle of bedding.

  "One would begin to think, Kartr, that this gentleman has a guilty conscience-"

  Rolth's words might have been the lash of a Tullan slaver's whip the way Fortus Kan reacted. He stopped trying to pull himself under the covers and sat stone still, his mouth trembling, his eyes glassy with-Kartr recognized-pure fear.

  "Please-" The secretary had to work to get that one word out, but it was a stopper which had held up the flood. "Please-I had nothing to do with it-nothing! I advised him not to antagonize the Patrol. I know the law- Why, I have a second cousin who is the clerk in your administration office on Sexti. I wouldn't go against the Patrol-never. I had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with it!"

  His fear was so rank that it was almost an odor in the room. But what was he afraid of-the planting of the force bomb, that trick with the Can-hound? There was only one way to get at the full truth. And for the second time in his life Kartr ruthlessly invaded a fellow human's mind, breaking down the feeble block, exploring, learning what he wanted-in part. Fortus Kan whimpered, was quiet. He would be quiet for a while now. Kartr turned away. There was a lot to do. A pity that Cummi had not trusted the little man more, there were such big gaps in his information-gaps which might be fatal if the rangers were not careful.

  The sergeant came back to Rolth. "There's a force bomb under the tower stairs, all right. And the Canhound is set to trick us out and blow it up. Everyone is being moved out of the top floors here before it goes off. Kan came back for some precious personal possessions. The stairs are under guard-"

  "We could blast through-rather noisy though."

  "Yes. One thing I'm wondering about-why all these staircases when they had gravity wells, too.

  Odd-maybe important."

  "This was a state building," Rolth reminded him. "Might use stairs for reasons of ceremony. Like those Opolti who fly everywhere except in the Affid's quarter. No evidence of any other way down from here. What about the boys? If that Can-hound gets tired of waiting for them to come out he may just set the bomb off anyway and trust to luck to bag the game."

  "Yes-"

  Kartr stood stiffly. He was blacking out, first the corridors, then this room, his awareness of Rolth, of

  Fortus Kan, of his own person. He did it! His mind touched Zinga's! He gave the warning. Then he was back in the frowzy room, shaking his head dazedly, to see Rolth crouched by the door listening.

  Men-two-three of them were coming along the hall outside-straight for this room!

  10 - BATTLE

  A sharp rap on the door froze both rangers.

  "Kan! We're moving out now. Come along!"

  But Fortus Kan was deep in a world of his own.

  "Kan! You fool, come on!"

  Kartr made mind contact. Out there was the young ship's officer he had met early in the day, two others-human, non-sensitive. They were impatient, impatient because of fear. And the fear won out.

  After some garbled conversation, which came through the door only as a murmur, they went on. Rolth glided to the window and studied what lay below.

  "I take it that we have to move fast?" he asked without turning around.

  "They were afraid-too afraid to linger very long. What's below?"

  "Another roof outcrop, but so far down we couldn't hope to make it without a climber's sucker pads."

  "We have a substitute for sucker pads." Kartr rolled Fortus Kan off the bed and set to work tearing its coverings into strips which Rolth caught up and knotted together. Working against time, but testing each knot, they produced a rough rope.

  "You first," ordered the sergeant. "Then this." He touched Kan with the toe of his boot. "I'll co
me last.

  Over now-time must be running out fast or they wouldn't have been in such a hurry to clear out."

  Rolth was gone almost before he finished speaking. Kartr hung over the window sill to watch but the

  Faltharian was so quickly hidden in the dark that only the movements of the rope told when he stopped climbing down and signaled a safe landing. Kartr pulled the clumsy line back into the room, his palms wet against the torn cloth. There was a terrible urgency goading him. He tied the cloth loop under Kan's arms and manhandled the secretary's limp body over the sill, lowering it as slowly as he could until a sharp jerk told him Rolth was in charge. Kartr did not even wait until Kan was untied before he was descending hand over hand.

  And as his feet hit the surface of the roof below it happened. There was no sound at first. But the support under him danced. He fell flat and buried his head in his arms, not daring to watch what was happening above. Force bomb all right. He had once before been caught in the backwash of one. Had

  Zinga and Fylh escaped in time? Resolutely he shut that fear out of his mind. There was a faint moan from Kan. Rolth-?

  But on the edge of that thought came the Faltharian's voice.

  "Quite a display! Cummi likes to play rough, doesn't he?"

  The sergeant sat up. He was trembling-perhaps with reaction from that frenzied descent-but, he decided, mostly from the black rage which possessed him now whenever he thought of the Ageratan.

  A rage he must best or that other sensitive could turn it into a weapon against him.

  "How do we get away from here?" He must depend on Rolth's ability to pierce the gloom. For it was real gloom which walled them in now. The dancing lights of the city were gone-they were crouched in the middle of a black blot.

  "Window over there-not too high to reach. What about this prize package? Do we have to lug him along?"

  "He'll wake by morning. Get him inside a room and leave him. I don't think they'll try another bomb."

  "Not unless they want to bring the whole place down around their heads. Let's go. If you'll take Kan's legs, I'll heave his head."

  Kartr stumbled along, trusting to Rolth to guide them. They reached a window, beat open the casement and crawled through with their unconscious burden.

  "Aren't we in the wrong building now?" the sergeant wanted to know. "I thought we climbed down over there-"

  "You're right. We're in a different one. But this was the easiest and quickest route out. Did the boys get away?"

  For the second time Kartr tried to reach Zinga-sent out those shafts of thought. Once-for a single joyful second he thought he had made contact-then it was gone. He dared not try too long, the Canhound- if that creature still lived-or even Cummi might be able to pick up his signal.

  "No use," he told Rolth. "I can't make contact. But that doesn't mean we have to worry. They may be too far away-we've never been able to discover what governs mental reception or how far we can beam a call. And they may be lying low because the Ageratan is too near. But I did reach Zinga before the blast and they had several minutes more than we did to escape."

  That was not much to pin any hope to, Kartr knew that. But with such veterans as Fylh and Zinga it was almost enough.

  "Do we try to locate Smitt?"

  "I think so. Or at least we can make contact with his rebels."

  Kartr hooked his fingers in Rolth's belt and allowed the Faltharian to tow him through dark rooms and darker hallways, while he tried to keep some sense of direction.

  "Street level," came the welcome whisper at last.

  "I believe that we are facing the street which runs along the front of Cummi's headquarters-"

  But, before Rolth could affirm or deny that, a brilliant bolt of fire snapped across the dark and both of them involuntarily ducked.

  A blaster shot! And that was another from down the street. A third beam brought a choked, horrible scream in answer.

  "The war's on!" Rolth pointed out unnecessarily. "And which is our side?"

  "Neither, just yet. I don't want to guess wrong and be fried," returned Kartr grimly. "There's one to our left-about five feet away- He's crawling past us at an angle. I'll try contact as he goes by and see who he is-"

  The lashes of fire continued to light up the sod-grown street at intervals. There were no more cries so either the aim continued to be poor, or very, very good.

  The sniper crawled across their vantage point.

  "No uniform," Rolth reported. "Looks like a civilian to me. But he knows blasters. Maybe the veteran of a sector war-"

  "He's not a Cummi man but-" Kartr had no time for a warning.

  No, the man out there was not one of Cummi's followers, but he had caught that tentative mind touch in an instant-something which had never happened to Kartr before. And his blaster swung around at the rangers.

  "Patrol!" Rolth yelled.

  The blaster aim wavered, and then held steady at them.

  "Come out-with your hands up!" ordered a harsh voice. "I've set this on `spray' and I'll use it that way, too!"

  Kartr and Rolth obeyed, hunking forward at a half stoop for there were other blasters busy farther down.

  "Who in Space are you?" demanded their captor.

  "Patrol rangers. We're trying to contact Smitt, our com-techneer-"

  "Yeah?" There was deep suspicion in that voice. "Well, you're going to contact him now. Get going down in that direction and I'm right behind you if you try to run-"

  They followed orders which brought them to a dark doorway some distance away.

  "Stairs here," Rolth informed his companion.

  "Sure," agreed the man behind them. "Go down them, and shut up!"

  But five steps down brought them to a barrier.

  "Knock on that four times quick, wait a second and knock again!" came the order of their guard.

  Rolth obeyed and the portal moved aside. They blundered through a thick curtain and found themselves in a dimly lighted hall where two men eyed them with no pretense of friendship and blasters were pointed at their middles. But when the light touched their comets there came recognition and relaxation. One of the guardians stepped closer.

  "Take off your helmets," he commanded.

  The rangers obeyed and the blinked as a torch beam centered on them.

  "It's okay. They're not Cummi's-they must be Patrol. Take them in to Krowli. How is it going topside?"

  "We lie on our bellies and shoot-they do the same. At least we knocked out the robots' signal cables so they can't turn those against us again. Far as I can see it's stalemate," their late captor replied.

  "Okay. Let the old man out, boys-back to the firing line!"

  "Get one of them for me, Pol!"

  "I'll do that little thing. Fry him on a platter. Good landing!"

  "And clear skies!" One of the guards closed the door and rearranged the folds of the improvised blackout curtain. The other jerked a thumb at the rangers.

  "Down this way."

  They went down the length of the hallway into a large room which was the scene of some activity.

  Several men squatted around some boxes digging machinery parts out of packing. Two others sat at a box table and three more were making a scratch meal at the far end of the room. The newcomers were waved toward the two at the table. One of them raised his head and then jumped to his feet. It was

  Smitt.

  "It is stalemate all right." The com-techneer ran his fingers through his hair.

  Kartr and Rolth studied the crude map which lay on the table top.

  "We have them bottled up in the headquarters building. By the way, did they blow the tower? We felt some sort of a shock-"

  The sergeant nodded without replying aloud. "If Cummi has disruptors," he said, "I don't see why he lets a handful of snipers pen him in. He could blow himself a path out any time he wants to."

  "Well." The slim, middle-aged man who shared Smitt's table when the rangers had been brought in, stretched and grinned. "Cummi doesn't want to
blow big holes in his nice city, not if he can help it.

  And snipers are hard to locate."

  "Not for a sensitive," Kartr pointed out. "Give me five minutes out there and I can tag every one of your men. Cummi need only send out the Can-hound and-"

  Krowli's grin vanished as if wiped off by a brutal hand. "You have a point there, Sergeant," he admitted in a voice of mild tone, but the emotions seething below it were anything but mild.