"I would be willing to fight you, as head of the technies," Lane countered sullenly, "but I wouldn't be bothered with a rebel and a traitor. You've overstepped yourself this time, my fine bolthead, and all I ask is a front seat at your execution!" * * * * * They stepped into the brightly lighted hall, and in that instant Mich'l felt a searing heat on his shoulder. Without a moment's pause he hurled Senator Mane and the girl back into the room. At the same moment he flung an arm around Lane's neck and pulled him back into the doorway, where he could use him as a shield while he cautiously peered out into the corridor. His shoulder throbbed painfully, but his movement had prevented the needle-ray from penetrating deeply in any one place. A short distance up the corridor was a wider space, in the center of which stood a large bronze urn filled with exotic plants. Behind this urn were several soldiers, and Mich'l recognized the sharp-eyed Captain Ilgen. So that officer had recognized the true state of affairs, or had strong suspicions! But in his haste and eagerness he had overlooked one important fact. In the guardroom, were riot-rays, heavy replicas of the ordinary hand weapons. They had not been needed for many years, but the technies had always kept them fully charged and in order. "Nida!" Mich'l called, not removing his eye from the doorway. "Yes?" She was standing beside him, and Mich'l thrilled to the admiration and positive affection in her intonation. "Notice those short tubes mounted on light wheels over against the walls? Those are riot-ray projectors. Wheel me over a couple." Nida did as directed. Mich'l stuck the stubby muzzle of one of the nearest weapons into the corridor, pulled the lever and swung the ray in an arc toward the ambushed soldiers. There was a sharp crackling noise and the heat chipped myriads of flakes off the stone walls, leaving a gray path across the rich murals, and the air was filled with flying particles. The heat was terrific. It beat back into the doorway. Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp order, and he and his men retreated before the bronze urn began to wilt and drip melted metal. He could not be accused of cowardice, for his hand weapons were puny compared to the riot-rays. "Quick, before he gets in touch with the outer guard!" Mich'l urged his prisoner forward, Senator Mane following. The grave patriarch of rhetoric made a striking picture as he dragged the second riot-ray along. The other one was abandoned, locked with full power on. It was converting that corridor into an inferno, and there would be no pursuit through that avenue. * * * * *