The workers were out for blood. Not content with restricting Soths to non-union labor, now they were screaming their jealous hearts out for these new symbols of class distinction to be destroyed. Of course, their beef was more against the professional-managerial human classes who could afford a surface car, an airboat _and a Soth_. The two so-called crimes and the trial publicity had triggered a sociological time bomb that might have endured for years without detonating--but it was here, now, upon us. And my own sweat trickling into my eyes stung me to a realization of my personal problem. I wiped my eyes clear with my knuckles--and at that instant the video screen flashed with a series of concentric halos. The operator, apparently, was so startled he forgot to turn down the gain on the transmitter. When he finally did, we saw that brilliant flares were emitting from the roof of the plant. Then great audio amplifiers from the plant set up an ear-splitting _sisssssle_ that again over-loaded the transmitting circuits for a moment. When the compensators cut down the volume, both Ollie and Soth leaned forward intently and listened to the frying sound that buzzed from the speaker. Those inside the plant were communicating a message to the outside, well knowing that it would reach the whole world. After a moment, the hissing stopped. And from a myriad of openings in the plant streamed an army of Soths with flaming weapons in their hands. The flames were directed first at the armed forces who were guarding the plant from attack. The thin line of soldiers fell instantly. The crowd surged blindly forward, and then, as those in the front ranks saw what had happened, began to dissolve and stampede. The screams became terrified. The flames grew brighter. And the picture winked out and the sound went dead. A standby pattern lighted the screen, and I stared at it numbly. * * * * * It was too late to run for my hunting rifle now, and I cursed my stupidity even as Soth turned upon me. I grabbed the sniveling little Ollie and held him between us with my hands around his neck. He hung there limply, hissing wildly through a larynx that vibrated under my fingers, his hands stretched imploringly to Soth. [Illustration] Soth stared at me and issued his first order. "Release him," he said. His voice was several notes higher than his usual monotone--the voice of command. I stared at him and clutched Ollie tighter. He went on. "I will not harm you if you comply with my orders. If you fail, I will kill you, regardless of what you do to the--Ollie." I let go Ollie's neck, but I swung him around roughly by one shoulder and demanded furiously, "What of the code that you swore held the Soths in control!"