He cocked his head to one side, watching me. "No," he shook his head, "now I think of it, they wouldn't destroy her. They'd hold her captivity over your head, forcing you to return so that they might destroy you." "Me?" I said, startled. "Surely you can see why?" he went on smoothly. "After all, why were they out to destroy me, Mister Delvin?" "Because you knew--" I said, then halted, stunned. "--How to destroy them," Baxter finished for me. "The selfsame information which you now possess. What do you think your chances are for survival now?" My guard wavered in that fleeting moment of realization. I caught the flicker of movement just a second too late. Charlie, out of my thoughts for an instant, had whipped his collapser out of his holster and brought it to bear on me. But even before I could bring my own weapon up in a futile attempt at a duel which would have resulted in probably two fatalities, iron-hard claws gripped my shoulder and I was carried hurtling to the floor by Clatclit's full weight on my back. To the floor just behind Baxter's chair. Charlie, spinning about to keep me in range, touched the trigger. There was a shriek. A shriek that died the split second in which it was born, and then my world disappeared in a blinding shower of blue-white sparks. When Clatclit and I got up again, Charlie and Foster were missing, along with most of the corridor wall. Baxter was just standing up from the lopped-off remnants of his chair, the manacles at his wrists and ankles having been dissolved by the bolt which could not destroy him. The bolt had rebounded from his shielding force to destroy its perpetrator, Charlie, and Foster, the hapless bystander. Before I could toss aside my useless weapon and attack him barehanded, Baxter had yanked up another weapon from the floor. It was one of the old-fashioned water guns, its flexible hose running back to tanks filled with gallons of sugarfoot-destructive fluid. "If you place any value on the existence of this creature who has just saved your life, Delvin, you will hand over that weapon to me at once." Clatclit looked at me. I sighed, and tossed the collapser to Baxter. What the hell, it wouldn't work on him, anyhow. "And now," said Baxter, dropping the water weapon and covering us with the one which was deadly to both our hides, "I am going to need your help." 19 "Well, this is a switch!" I remarked. "The kingpin needs a hand!" "It is a comedown," Baxter said wryly, "but you see, my late agent's fatal heroics have had a distressing side effect." "Oh?" I said, looking about the shards of room that were still extant on the corridor side. "I don't see anything."