His father opened his eyes and stared unseeing beyond his son. His lips, flecked with spume, worked silently, then he gurgled, "M-medicine ... bathroom ... behind mirror ... I n-need--" His collapse this time was total, his head hanging limply with chin on chest, his arms sliding over the sides of the chair until his wrists touched the carpet. A thunderous pounding upon the front door brought Lloyd and the two women up short, and they stood frozen with dread as the insistent sound continued. The inner surface of the door was shaking with the blows. "... Goons?" whimpered Grace. "What'll we do if it's the Goons?" "Stanton's Voteplate!" Andra snapped. "Lloyd, take it, quick, out of his pocket!" Lloyd caught her meaning instantly, and hurried to obey. "Grace, count ten, then open the door. We can't delay longer than that. Lloyd, think fast, and think smart! We're all in your hands, now!" Lloyd, the plate in his hand, shoved his own into Stanton's pocket and straightened up. "Let them in, Grace," he commanded. "Then both of you keep still and let me talk!" * * * * * Grace unbolted the door and stepped back. The six metal bodies of the Goon Squad rumbled loudly as they crossed over the sill and came to a halt before the trio. The Goon in the fore-front of the group, swiveling its glittering telelenses over them, spoke in its cold, emotionless voice, "President Stanton." Lloyd stepped forward and handed over the Voteplate. The eight-foot metal creature took it, slipped it into its chest-slot and paused; then returned the plate. "Correct," it said. "Orders." "Miss Madge Benedict, of my office, to be taken into custody at once, and held incommunicado," said Lloyd, figuring Stanton would be helpless with no contact at top level, so long as Ultrablack prevented his leaving the unit. The Goon stood silently as this information was relayed to the Brain and thence to the Goon Squad nearest Stanton's office. "Accomplished," it said flatly, after a minute, its dull grey force-field pulsating with incredible energies. "Orders." "Secondary Speakster Bodger--the man in the chair--to be taken," Lloyd flashed a glance at Grace, who nodded, "along with this woman on my right, to his Unit on Hundred-Level, Unit B, and left there without supervision, by all but one of your squad." "Orders." "One of you will escort me and this woman on my left to the Brain, in Sub-Level Three, immediately." "Orders." "All orders conveyed," said Lloyd. CHAPTER 14