Nothing was ever printed about it, only a thousand whispered words heard on a thousand worlds around the galaxy. The Special Corps, the branch of the League that took care of the troubles that individual planets couldn't solve. The Corps was supposed to have finished off the remnants of Haskell's Raiders after the peace, of putting the illegal T & Z Traders out of business, of finally catching Inskipp. And now they were after me. They were out there waiting for me to make a break. They were thinking of all the ways out just as I was--and they were blocking them. I had to think fast and I had to think right. Only two ways out. Through the gates or through the store. The gates were too well covered to make a break, in the store there would be other ways out. It had to be that way. Even as I made the conclusion I knew that other minds had made it too, that men were moving in to cover those exits. That thought brought fear--and made me angry as well. The very idea that someone could out-think me was odious. They could try all right--but I would give them a run for their money. I still had a few tricks left. First, a little misdirection. I started the truck, left it in low gear and aimed it at the gate. When it was going straight I locked the steering wheel with the friction clamp and dropped out the far side of the cab and strolled back to the warehouse. Once inside I moved faster. Behind me I heard some shots, a heavy crump, and a lot of shouting. That was more like it. The night locks were connected on the doors that led to the store proper. An old-fashioned alarm that I could disconnect in a few moments. My pick-locks opened the door and I gave it a quick kick with my foot and turned away. There were no alarm bells, but I knew that somewhere in the building an indicator showed that the door was opened. As fast as I could run I went to the last door on the opposite side of the building. This time I made sure the alarm was disconnected before I went through the door. I locked it behind me. It is the hardest job in the world to run and be quiet at the same time. My lungs were burning before I reached the employees' entrance. A few times I saw flashlights ahead and had to double down different aisles, it was mostly luck that I made it without being spotted. There were two men in uniform standing in front of the door I wanted to go out. Keeping as close to the wall as I could I made it to within twenty feet of them before I threw the gas grenade. For one second I was sure that they had gas masks on and I had reached the end of the road--then they slumped down. One of them was blocking the door, I rolled him aside and slid it open a few inches. [Illustration: illus3]