er man. A gun
flashed, but then there was only squirming struggle on the floor.

Mike the midget, inside the Platform, found one bloodied, panting,
sobbing man who somehow had gotten inside. And Mike brought down a
spanner from a ladder step, and swarmed upon his half-conscious victim,
and hit him again, and then stayed on guard until somebody arrived who
was big enough to carry the saboteur away.

And all this while, Joe struggled with only one man. It was a horrible
struggle, because the man had a bomb and he might manage to set it off
or it might go off of itself. It was a ghastly struggle, because the man
had the strength and desperation of a maniac--and practiced the tactics.
Joe pounded the hand that held the gun upon the floor, and it hit
something and exploded smokily and fell clear. But that made things
worse. While struggling to kill Joe with the revolver, his antagonist
had had only five fingers with which to gouge out Joe's eyes or tear
away his ears or rend his flesh. But with no pistol he had ten, and he
fought like a wild beast. He even breathed like an animal. He began to
pant--thick, guttural pantings that had the quality of hellish hate. And
then there was a surging of bodies--Major Holt's reserve was arriving
very late in the center of the Shed--and then a struggling group
trampled all over the pair who squirmed and fought on the ground, and a
heavy boot jammed down Joe's head and he felt teeth sink in his throat.
They dug into his flesh, worrying and tearing....

Joe used his knee in a frenzy of revulsion--used his knee as the other
man had tried to use his in the first instant of battle. The man beneath
him screamed as an animal would scream, and Joe jerked his bleeding
throat free. In hysterical horror he pounded his antagonist's head on
the floor until the man went limp....

And then he heard a grim voice saying: "Quit it or you get your head
blown off! Quit it----" And Joe panted: "It's about time you guys got
here! This man came in on that truck. Watch out for that bomb he's got
slung on him...."

12

The incoming shift had a messy clean-up job to do. It was accomplished
only because security men abruptly took over the work of gang bosses,
and all ordinary labor on the Platform was put aside until normal
operations were again possible. Even that would not have been feasible
but for the walkie-talkies the security men wore. As the situation was
sorted out, it was explained to them,