It was farther than he'd thought, and Gordon began to suspect he'd missed the way, until he saw the drugstore. Now it all fell into place--the first beat he'd had with Izzy. He ducked down back alleys until he reached the right section. He scanned the street, jumped to the door of the little liquor store and began banging on it. There was no answer, though he was sure the old couple lived just over the store. He began banging again. Finally, a feeble voice sounded from inside. "Who is it?" "A man in distress!" he yelled back. There was no way to identify himself; he could only hope she would look. The entrance seal opened briefly; then it flashed open all the way. He motioned to Murdoch, and jumped to help the failing man to the entrance. The old lady looked, then moved quickly to the other side. "_Ach, Gott_," she breathed. Her hands trembled as she relocked the seal. Then she brushed the thin hair off her face, and pointed. Gordon followed her up the stairs, carrying Murdoch on his back. She opened a door, passed through a tiny kitchen, and threw open another door to a bedroom. The old man lay on the bed, and this time there was no question of concussion. The woman nodded. "Yes. Pappa is dead, God forbid it. He _would_ try to vote. I told him and told him--and then ... With my own hands, I carried him here." Gordon felt sick. He started to turn, but she shook her head quickly. "No. Pappa is dead. He needs no beds now, and your friend is suffering; put him here." She lifted the frail body of the old man and lowered him onto the floor with a strength that seemed impossible. Then her hands were gentle as she helped lower Murdoch where the corpse had been. "I'll get alcohol from below--and bandages and hot water." Asa Murdoch opened his eyes, breathing stertoriously. His face was blanched, his clothes a mess. But he protested as Gordon tried to strip them. "Let them go, kid. There's no way to save me now. And listen!" "I'm listening!" "With your _mind_, Gordon, not your ears. You've heard a lot about Security. Well, I'm Security. Top level--policy for Mars. We never got a top man here without his being discovered and killed--That's why we've had to work under all the cover--and against our own government. Nobody knew I was here--Trench was our man--Sold us out! We've got junior men--down to your level, clerks, such things. We've got a dozen plans. But we're not ready for an emergency, and it's here--now! "Gordon, you're a self-made louse, but you're a man underneath it somewhere. That's why we rate you higher than you think you are. That's why I'm going to trust you--because I have to." He swallowed, and the thin hand of the woman lifted brandy to his lips. "Pappa," she said slowly. "He was a clerk once for Security. But nobody came, nobody called...." She went back to trying to bandage the bleeding bluish hole in his chest. Murdoch nodded faintly.