"Who's this child? And why did you get me up in the dead of night?" He dipped deeply into Martha's probings of the past week. "Citizenship'll make the Guard Intelligence gang think twice before they try to grab you again. Naturally they'd try to block us if we administered the oath in public. Ready?" "Dramatic," she sneered. "Oh, I suppose so. Get it over with." "Do you, Lee Bennet, solemnly renounce all allegiances previously held by you and pledge your allegiance to the North American Government?" "I do," she said. There was a choked little cry from Martha. "Hell's fire," she said. "Like breaking a leg!" "What are you talking about, little girl?" Lee asked, coldly alert. "It's all right," Charles said wearily. "Don't you know my voice? I'm Orsino. You turned me in back there because they don't give, citizenship to women and so your de-conditioning didn't get triggered off. I managed to break for the woods. A bunch of natives got me. I busted loose with the help of Martha here. Among her other talents, the kid's a mind reader. I remember the triggering shocked me out of a year's growth; how do you feel?" Lee was silent, but Martha answered in a voice half puzzled and half contemptuous: "She feels fine, but she's crying." "Am not," Lee Falcaro gulped. Charles turned from her, embarrassed. In a voice that strove to be normal, he whispered to Martha: "What about the boat?" "Still there," she said. Lee Falcaro said tremulously: "Wh-wh-what boat?" "Martha's staked out a reactor-driven patrol speedboat at a wharf. One guard aboard. She--watched it in operation and I have some small-boat time. I really think we can grab it. If we get a good head-start, they don't have anything based here that'll catch up with it. If we get a break on the weather, their planes won't be able to pick us up." Lee Falcaro stood up, dashing tears from her eyes. "Then let's go," she said evenly. "How's the C.Q.--that man downstairs, Martha?" "Still sleepin'. The way's as clear now as it'll ever be." They closed the door behind them and Charles worked the lock. The Charge of Quarters looked as though he couldn't be roused by anything less than an earthquake as they passed--but Martha stumbled on one of the rotting steps after they were outside the building. "Patrick and Bridget rot my clumsy feet off!" she whispered. "He's awake." "Under the porch," Charles said. They crawled into the dank space between porch floor and ground. Martha kept up a scarcely-audible volleyfire of maledictions aimed at herself. When they stopped abruptly Charles knew it was bad.