staying in Trench's car and letting it roll
past him. But he'd taken the damned badge.

"Hell," he said in disgust. He climbed out, just as the two groups met.
It all had a curious feeling of unreality.

Then a man jumped for him, swinging a pike, and the feeling was suddenly
gone. His hand snapped down sharply for a rock on the street. The pike
whistled over his head, barely missing, and he was up, squashing the big
stone into the face of the other. He jerked the pike away, kicked the
man in the neck as he fell, and unsheathed his knife with the other
hand.

Trench was a few feet away. The man might be a louse, but he was also a
fighting machine of first order, still. He'd already captured one of the
pikes. Now he grinned tightly at Gordon and began moving toward him.
Gordon nodded--in a brawl such as this, two working together had a
distinct advantage.

Then a yell sounded as more Legals poured down the street. One of them
was obviously Izzy, wearing the same green as the others!

Gordon felt something hit his back, and instinctively fell, soaking up
the blow. He managed to bend his neck and roll, coming to his feet. His
knife slashed upwards, and the Legal fell--almost on top of the Security
badge that had dropped from Gordon's pouch.

He jerked himself down and scooped it up, his eyes darting for Trench.
He stuffed it back, ducking a blow. Then his glance fell on the entrance
to Mother Corey's house--with Sheila Corey coming out of the seal!

Gordon threw himself back; he had to get to her.

He hadn't been watching as closely as he should. He saw the pike coming
down and tried to duck...

He was vaguely conscious later of looking up, to see Sheila dragging him
into some entrance, while Trench ran toward them. Sheila and Trench
together--and the Security badge was still in his pouch!

Chapter XII

WIFE OR PRISONER?

Something cold and damp against his forehead brought Gordon part way out
of his unconsciousness finally. There was the softness of a bed under
him and the bitter aftertaste of Migrainol on his tongue. He tried to
move, but nothing happened. The drug killed pain, but only at the
expense of a temporary paralysis of all voluntary motion.

There was a sudden withdrawal of the cooling touch on his forehead, and
then hasty steps that went away from him, and the sound of a door
closing.

Steps sounded from outside; his door opened, and there was the sound of
two men crossing the room, o