und out he was the boy who took care of the bomb-planting detail.
We want him alive. The others mightn't know where it's been tucked
away. Heraga says the clerical staff and technicians in there are all
wearing the white Star uniforms. Anyone else who isn't in one of those
uniforms is fair game--" He paused. "Oh, and tip them off about the
Hlat!--God only knows what that thing will be doing when the ruckus
starts."

"What about sending a few men in through the fifth level portal, the
one you've unplugged?"

Quillan considered, shook his head. "No. Down on the ground level is
where we want them. They'd have to portal there again from the fifth,
and a portal is too easy to seal off and defend. Now let's get a
blanket or something to tuck Fluel into. I don't want to feel
conspicuous if I run into somebody on the way."

* * * * *

Quillan emerged cautiously from the fifth portal in the Executive
Block a short while later, came to a sudden stop just outside it. In
the big room beyond the entry hall, the door of the baited cubicle was
closed, and the life-indicator on the door showed a bright steady
green glow.

Quillan stared at it a moment, looking somewhat surprised, then went
quietly into the room and bent to study the cubicle's instruments. A
grin spread slowly over his face. The trap had been sprung. He glanced
at the deep-rest setting and turned it several notches farther down.

"Happy dreams, Lady Pendrake!" he murmured. "That takes care of you.
What an appetite! And now--"

As the Level Four portal dilated open before him, a gun blazed from
across the hall. Quillan flung himself out and down, rolled to the
side, briefly aware of a litter of bodies and tumbled furniture
farther up the hall. Then he was flat on the carpet, gun out before
him, pointing back at the overturned, ripped couch against the far
wall from which the fire had come.

A hoarse voice bawled, "Bad News--hold it!"

Quillan hesitated, darting a glance right and left. Men lying about
everywhere, the furnishings a shambles. "That you, Baldy?" he asked.

"Yeah," Baldy Perk half sobbed. "I'm hurt--"

"What happened?"

"_Star_ gang jumped us. Portaled in here--spitballs and riot guns! Bad
News, we're clean wiped out! Everyone that was on this level--"

Quillan stood up, holstering the gun, went over to the couch and moved
it carefully away from the wall. Baldy was crouched behind it,
kneeling on the blood-soak