Barlow had no chance to ask for an explanation. One of the officers with Dodson stepped forward. He carried the projector Valnar had constructed, but it was changed and was mounted on a tripod. The officer trained it on the prisoners and pressed the switch. Barlow felt a nervous shock that was almost electrical. He stiffened spasmodically. He suddenly felt a hundred times stronger than he had been, and felt a stinging contempt for the sheep around him. Rage welled into his mind like a hot acid burning away all but the desire to fight and kill. As through a red haze he saw Valnar collapse limply to the ground. But the other prisoners were standing rigidly, faces twisted with hate. He leaped forward. "Come on, you yellow-bellied cowards! What the hell does it matter if they have all the guns? Maybe we can get a couple of them anyway!" A hoarse roar of approval came from the throats of those behind him. Laurine was at his side and they were running toward the group of rulers. And behind came the others of the Organization, a blood-hungry, hateful rabble. Unfearful of death and desiring only to tear the flesh of the Director's men from their bodies. Then a volley from the massed guards struck into them. Barlow felt something strike him on the side. He staggered and almost fell as a burning thread of agony lanced through his body. But the rage upheld him, made him fight on. Others passed him. Laurine ran ahead. He fell to the ground, then fought his way to his hands and knees and crawled toward Dodson and his subordinates. He saw Laurine leap at the men at the projector. They went to the ground, fighting and kicking in utter disregard of all rules. The bullets of the guards were dropping men and women all around him. Many struggled up to fight their way onward, but many stayed down. Barlow reached the projector, grasped the tripod to lift himself up. He saw dimly that Dodson and his officers were clamoring at the gate to be freed from the bloody courtyard, but the portals had been closed to retain the prisoners and now did as well for the Director. Weakly, Barlow turned the projector around. He had to lean over it to stay up, but he threw its beam over those at the gate. They went down like dead men, slow and easily. Then the guards, then.... The rage was leaving him. Blackness was closing in around his mind. He sagged over the projector, and dragged it to the ground with him. * * * * * The blackness around his mind first parted to allow a tiny pricking of pain to dart into his mind. Then, as though the neural dams had broken, agony came. He twisted to escape it, and from far away a voice spoke soothingly. The agony faded slowly and he became conscious of light. He saw a white-garbed figure near him. The face was pretty and feminine, and in the woman's hand was a hypodermic syringe. His mind cleared slowly and he saw more clearly. He was in a hospital.