If, I thought, I can get back with the information. I thought that over. How would I get back? I had no way of communicating. I was completely on my own now. Always before I had had the knowledge that in the end I could send out a call for help, and count on rescue within an hour. Richthofen had arranged for a 24-hour monitoring of my communications band, alert for my call. Now that was out. If I was to return to the Imperium, I would have to steal one of the crude shuttles of this world, or better, commandeer one as dictator. I had to get back into the palace, with a correct disguise, or end my days in this nightmare world. I heard voices approaching outside the room. I closed my eyes as the door opened. I might learn a little by playing possum, if I could get away with it. The voices were lower now, and I sensed several people coming over to stand by the bed. "How long has he been asleep?" a new voice asked. Or was it new? It seemed familiar somehow, but I connected it with some other place. "Doc gave him some shots," someone answered. "We brought him in this time yesterday." There was a pause. Then the half-familiar voice again. "I don't like his being alive. However--perhaps we can make use of him." "Gros wanted him alive," another voice said. I recognized Gaston. He sounded sullen. "He had big plans for him." The other voice grunted. There was a silence for a few moments. "He's no good to us until the face is healed. Keep him here until I send along further instructions." I hadn't liked what I heard, but for the present I had no choice but to lie here and try to regain my strength. At least, I was comfortably set up in this huge bed. I drifted off to sleep again. I awoke with Gaston sitting by the bed, smoking. He sat up when I opened my eyes, crushed out his cigarette in an ash tray on the table, and leaned forward. "How are you feeling, Hammer-hand?" he said. "Rested," I said. My voice came out in a faint whisper. I was surprised at its weakness. "Yeah, them pigeons give you a pretty rough time, Hammer-hand. I don't know why you didn't lay the punch on them sooner. "I got some chow here for you," Gaston said. He put a tray from the bedside table on his lap and offered me a spoonful of soup. I was hungry; I opened my mouth for it. I never expected to have a gorilla for a nursemaid, I thought. Gaston was good at his work, though. For the next three days he fed me regularly, changed my bedding, and performed all the duties of a trained nurse with skill, if not with grace. I steadily gained strength, but I was careful to conceal the extent of my progress from Gaston and the others who occasionally came in. I didn't know what might be coming up and I wanted something in reserve.