I stood staring. There was a padded white table in the center of the room. At one end stood two floodlamps on tall tripods. Glittering instruments were laid out on a small table. On a stand beside the operating table lay scalpels, sutures, heavy curved needles. There was a finely made saw, like a big hacksaw, and heavy snippers. On the floor beneath the table was a large galvanized steel wash tub. I didn't understand this; I turned to the door--and heard footsteps approaching. I looked around, saw a door, jumped to it and jerked it open. When the two men entered the room, I was standing rigid in the darkness of the storeroom, with the door open half an inch. The floodlights flicked on, then off again. There was a rattle of metal against metal. "Lay off that," a nasal voice said. "This is all set. I checked it over myself." "They're nuts," Nasal-voice said. "Why don't they wait until morning, when they got plenty sunlight for this? No, they gotta work under the lights." "I don't get this deal," a thin voice said. "I didn't get what was supposed to be wrong with this guy's legs, they got to take them off. How come if he's--" "You ain't clued in, are you, Mac?" Nasal-voice said harshly. "This is a big deal; they're going to ring this mug in when they knock off the Old Man." "Yeah, that's what I mean," Thin-voice cut in. "So what's the idea they take off the legs?" "You don't know much, do you, small-timer?" Nasal-voice said. "Well, listen; I got news for you." There was a pause. "Bayard's got no pins, from the knees down." Nasal spoke in a hushed tone. "You didn't know that, did you? That's why you never seen him walking around on the video; he's always sitting back of a desk. "There ain't very many people know about that," he added. "Keep it to yourself." "Cripes," Thin-voice said. His voice was thinner than ever. "Got no legs?" "That's right. I was with him a year before the landing. I was in his outfit when he got it. Machine gun slug, through both knees. Now forget about it. But maybe now you get the set-up." "Cripes," Thin-voice said. "Where did they get a guy crazy enough to go into a deal like this?" "How do I know," the other said. He sounded as though he regretted having told the secret. "These revolutionist types is all nuts anyway." I stood there feeling sick. My legs tingled. I knew now why nobody mistook me for the dictator, as I walked into a room; and why Spider had been taken in, when he saw me sitting. I was leaving now. Not tomorrow, not tonight; now. I had no gun, no papers, no map, no plans, but I was leaving.