"All the work crews were hauled out of subspace this morning," Reetal said. "On the quiet, the Star's employees have been told that a gang of raiders was spotted in the warehouse area, and is at present cornered there. Naturally, the matter isn't to be mentioned to the guests, to avoid arousing unnecessary concern. And that explains everything very neatly. The absence of the security men, and why subspace is sealed off. Why the Executive Block is under guard, and can't be entered--and why the technical and office personnel in there don't come out, and don't communicate out. They've been put on emergency status, officially." * * * * * "Yunk," Quillan said disgustedly after a moment. "This begins to look like a hopeless situation, doll!" "True." "Let's see now--" Reetal interrupted, "There is one portal still open to subspace. That's in the Executive Block, of course, and Heraga reports it's heavily guarded." "How does he know?" "The Block's getting its meals from Phalagon House. He floated a diner in there a few hours ago." "Well," Quillan said, brightening, "perhaps a deft flavoring of poison--" Reetal shook her head. "I checked over the hospital stocks. Not a thing there that wouldn't be spotted at once. Unless we can clobber them thoroughly, we can't afford to make them suspicious with a trick like that." "Poison would be a bit rough on the office help, too," Quillan conceded. "They wouldn't be in on the deal." "No, they're not. They're working under guard." "Gas ... no, I suppose not. It would take too long to whip up something that could turn the trick." Quillan glanced at his watch. "If the _Camelot_ docks at midnight, we've around six and a half hours left, doll! And I don't find myself coming up with any brilliant ideas. What have you thought of?" Reetal hesitated a moment. "Nothing very brilliant either," she said then. "But there are two things we might try as a last resort." "Let's hear them." "I know a number of people registered in the Star at present who'd be carrying personal weapons. If they were told the facts, I could probably line up around twenty who'd be willing to make a try to get into the Executive Block, and take over either the control offices or the transmitter room. If we got a warning out to the _Camelot_, that would break up the plot. Of course, it wouldn't necessarily save the Star." "No," Quillan said, "but it's worth trying if we can't think of something better. How would you get them inside?" "We could crowd twenty men into one of those diner trucks, and Heraga could take us in." "What kind of people are your pals?"