Karnes sat up abruptly. "What happened?" He had no time to be original. "I don't know for sure. One of the Leaguers threw a gas bomb of some sort, and it knocked out everyone in the room. Funny, though, it even knocked out all the Leaguers. When the rest of the boys came in, everybody was out cold on the floor. Most of them are coming out of it now, except for two of the Leaguers. They got some lead in them, though, not gas." Karnes stood up. He felt a little dizzy, but otherwise there wasn't anything wrong. He surveyed the room. On the floor was a slightly yellowed spot where the impressor had flared and vanished. Lansberg was unconscious with a copiously bleeding right shoulder. Two other men were rapidly being brought around by the police. Three of the League agents were still out; nobody tried to wake them up, they were being handcuffed. One of the women was crying and cursing the "damned filthy Nations police" over one of the bodies, and the other woman was sitting stonily, staring at her handcuffs with a faint sneer. "Where's Brittain?" roared Karnes. The man was nowhere in the room. "Gone," said one of the cops. "Evidently he skipped out while the rest of us were unconscious. He was the guy who threw the bomb." Karnes glanced at his watch. One sixteen in the morning. They had been out about twelve or thirteen minutes. "Where the devil did he go? How in--" Lieutenant Carnotti came up to him, a look of self-disgust on his face. "I know how he got away, Mr. Karnes; I just talked to the boys on the roof. He grabbed a uniform coat and cap off Sergeant Joseph while he was out and commandeered a 'copter on the roof." * * * * * Karnes didn't wait for further information. He ran out into the hall and into the open elevator. Within less than a minute, he was on the roof. One cop was speaking rapidly into a transmitter. "--number 3765. Left about ten minutes ago, supposedly for the hospital. Officer Powers in the 'copter with him." He cut off and looked at Karnes, who was standing over him. His gun was out before he spoke. "Who are you, buddy." Karnes told him who he was. The cop looked skeptical. Karnes didn't have his hat on, and his clothes were a bit rumpled after his nap on the floor. Karnes didn't need to say anything; another policeman was going through his pockets, and he found the billfold. As soon as they saw the forgeproof identity card, they relaxed. "Sorry, Mr. Karnes," said the man at the transceiver, "but we've already let one man get away." Karnes nodded. "I know. Pure blind luck that his suit was almost the same shade as that gray uniform you guys wear, or he'd never have got away with it. All he needed was the jacket and cap." "Have any idea which way he went?"