Not willing to be put off any longer, Comstock asked, "Bowdler, since you're a Father, why are you doing what you're doing?" "No time for that, boy, no time at all." Grundy added his curiosity, "But we must know, Bowdler, we can't keep up this insane hare and hounds chase unless we know what's going on!" * * * * * Bowdler pushed Grundy and Helen towards Comstock and snapped, "Later, later. For now, all I can say is that I am fed up with the unfairness of the way our world is being run. I went out into your world to try and find rebels to use as the nucleus for a revolution. But there's no time now for any further explanations. Listen to me carefully. The guards at the front entrance would recognize you, Comstock, even in that uniform, so you must escape by the back exit. To get to it, turn right when you leave here, go to the end of the long hall, and then turn left, follow that passage to its end and then turn right. That'll lead you to the garage. Commandeer a car and go to 14 Anthony Comstock Road. I'll join you as soon as I safely can." "Right, left, right," Grundy said. "Okay, Bowdler. I hope you can join us soon!" "Before you go," Bowdler said, "Sock me on the jaw." Grundy asked, "Hit you? Why should I?" "Do as he says," Helen said impatiently. "He has to have an alibi for our escape." Closing his eyes, Grundy lashed out suddenly. His fist missed Bowdler's chin and landed high on his cheek near Bowdler's eye. He snorted in annoyance, but said, "All right, all right, that'll have to do. Now run!" Throwing himself on the thickly carpeted floor he imitated the truly unconscious man who was slumped there. Lifting his head he said, "Beat it! Go on ... hurry!" They left. * * * * * Comstock chanted to himself over and over again as they walked down the long impressive marble corridor, right, left, right. What was behind the doors they passed? Would he ever know? Each one seemed more menacing than the one before it. And somehow, high above him, Comstock could feel the brooding majesty of The Grandfather. Surely here in the buildings that were sacred to Him, The Grandfather must know what they were doing. His knees shook and his stomach turned over as he thought of the effrontery of what they were doing. If one of the doors that lined the corridor had so much as squeaked, Comstock thought, he would die. He knew it. He knew his weak heart would not be able to stand the strain and that was all there was to it. The silence that surrounded them was harrowing. Grundy, his arm around Helen protectively, kept his eyes busy searching, hoping against hope that no one would see them, question them ... or suspect them. Comstock's palm and fingers were sweaty with the agony of the grip he had on the butt of the stun-gun. Ahead of them was the end of the corridor and no one had seen them.