There was more noise, then someone yelled. They must be having a hell of a time getting the stuff through the narrow hall, I thought. My eyeballs ached, my legs were trembling, my stomach suddenly felt bad. I gagged. I hoped I wouldn't go to pieces. Time for the tooth now. I thought of how disappointed Bale would be when he found me dead in my cell. It helped a little; but still I hesitated. I didn't want to die. I had a lot of living I wanted to do first. Then someone called out, nearby. "Wolfhound!" My head came up. My code name. I tried to shout, choked. "Yes," I croaked. I jumped to the bars, yelled. "Wolfhound, where in hell...." "Here!" I yelled. "Here!" "Get back, Colonel," someone said. "Get in the corner and cover up." I moved back and crouched, arms over my head. There was a sharp hissing sound, and a mighty blast that jarred the floor under me. Tiny particles bit and stung, and grit was in my mouth. With a drawn-out clang, the door fell into the room. Arms grabbed me, pulled me through the boiling dust, out into the glare. I stumbled, felt broken things underfoot. Men milled around a mass blocking the passage. Canted against the wall a great box sat with a door hanging wide, light streaming out. Arms helped me through the door, and I saw wires, coils, junction boxes, stapled to bare new wood, with angle-irons here and there. White-uniformed men crowded into the tiny space; a limp figure was hauled through the door. "Full count," someone yelled. "Button up!" Wood splintered as a bullet came through. The door banged shut, and the box trembled while a rumble built up into a whine, then passed on up out of audibility. Someone grabbed my arm. "My God, Brion, you must have had a terrible time of it." It was Richthofen, in a grey uniform, a cut on his face, staring at me. "No hard feelings," I said. "Your timing ... was good." "We've had a monitor on your band day and night, hoping for something," he said. "We'd given you up, but couldn't bring ourselves to abandon hope; then four hours ago the tapping started coming through. They went after it with locators, and fixed it here in the wine cellars. "The patrol scouts couldn't get in here; no room. We pitched this box together and came in." "Fast work," I said. I thought of the trip through the dreaded Blight, in a jury-rig made of pine boards. I felt a certain pride in the men of the Imperium. "Make a place for Colonel Bayard, men," someone said. A space was cleared on the floor, jackets laid out on it. Richthofen was holding me up and I made a mighty effort, got to the pallet and collapsed. Richthofen said something but I didn't hear it. I wondered what had held the meat cutters up so long, and then let it go. I had to say something, warn them. I couldn't remember.... Chapter 14