"Don't you dare hurt him!" she warned. "Don't you see, Mr. Sauer, you're playing into their hands? They're trying to divide us. They pit mechanic against clerk, laborer against armed forces. And you're helping them! Brother Sauer, I beg--" The redhead spat deliberately on the floor. He licked his lips, and grinned an amiable clown's grin, and said in his cheerful, buffoon bray: "Auntie, go verb your adjective adjective noun." Sue-Ann Bradley gasped and turned white. She had known such words existed--but only theoretically. She had never expected to _hear_ them. And certainly she would never have believed she would hear them, applied to her, from the lips of a--a _laborer_. At her knees, the guard shrieked and fell to the floor. "Sauer! Sauer!" A panicky bellow from the corridor; the red-haired giant hesitated. "Sauer, come on out here! There's a million guards coming up the stairs. Looks like trouble!" Sauer said hoarsely to the unconscious guard: "I'll take care of _you_." And he looked blankly at the girl, and shook his head, and hurried back outside to the corridor. Guards were coming, all right--not a million of them, but half a dozen or more. And leading them all was the medic, calm, bearded face looking straight ahead, hands clasped before him, ready to heal the sick, comfort the aged or bring new life into the world. "Hold it!" shrieked little Flock, crouched over the agonizing blister on his abdomen, gun in hand, peering insanely down the steps. "Hold it or--" "Shut up." Sauer called softly to the approaching group: "Let only the doc come up. Nobody else!" The intern faltered; the guards stopped dead; the medic said calmly: "I must have my intern with me." He glanced at the barred gate wonderingly. Sauer hesitated. "Well--all right. But no guards!" A few yards away, Sue-Ann Bradley was stuffing the syncoped form of the guard into her small washroom. It was time to take a stand. No more cowering, she told herself desperately. No more waiting. She closed the door on the guard, still unconscious, and stood grimly before it. Him, at least, she would save if she could. They could get him, but only over her dead body. Or anyway, she thought with a sudden throbbing in her throat, over her body. VI After O'Leary and the medic left, the warden tottered to a chair--but not for long. His secretary appeared, eyes bulging. "The governor!" he gasped. Warden Schluckebier managed to say: "Why, Governor! How good of you to come--" The governor shook him off and held the door open for the men who had come with him. There were reporters from all the news services, officials from the township governments within the city-state. There was an Air GI with major's leaves on his collar--"Liaison, sir," he explained crisply to the warden, "just in case you have any orders for our men up there." There were nearly a dozen others. The warden was quite overcome.