Pell's search was ended on the thirty-seventh level. Because of its tremendous depth, this level was ventilated only with great difficulty. The air, what there was of it, was close and sticky. The rumbling whine of the ventilator turbine could be heard plainly as it labored to force air into the dimly-lit, narrow passage-ways. The walls and pillars were huge chunks of almost solid, heavily reinforced cement since they had to support the ponderous weight of three dozen levels and the mighty blaster tower itself. Uneasily the Insurgents crept into the depths behind Pell and Major Dallard. Pell himself was worried. The entire warren above had been combed unsuccessfully for Gutridge and Gret Helmuth. The gnawing fear that had tormented Pell burst out more powerfully. Suppose Gutridge had taken Gret into these depths and was holding her as a hostage? Pell shrugged grimly to himself and strained his eyes to pierce the gloom. Suddenly the heavy silence that shrouded the place was broken by the crackling of static and the sound of a well-known voice originating from a speaker almost above Pell's head. It was Gutridge! "I see you've discovered my hiding place, Pell," boomed Gutridge, his voice reverberating in the tomb-like passages. "I'm entertaining a guest," Gutridge continued. "I believe she is a friend of yours. You wouldn't want anything to happen to her, would you, Pell?" His laughter made the passage vibrate. "Pell!" thundered the speaker, "I want a guarantee of freedom. In return, I will deliver the girl unharmed. This is a two-way speaker, so you may reply into it." "How do I know she is alive?" Pell stalled desperately. "You may speak to her," Gutridge answered. "Say a few words to the gentleman, my dear." "Pell!" Gret screamed over the speaker, "this whole place is mined. Get out before he kills you all!" Pell heard distinctly the sound of a meaty fist colliding with flesh and bone, followed by Gutridge's muttering voice, "You talk too much, my dear." Rage--blind, helpless, unreasoning rage washed over Pell in prickly waves. Then Gutridge spoke again. "There you have it. I will give you two minutes to decide," the speaker echoed. Its crackling subsided and only the hum of its open circuit could be heard. Then Pell felt a tapping on his shoulder. He turned and saw Dallard in the dimness. "Guarantee his freedom, Pell. Offer him a space ship," Dallard whispered. "It's either that or he blows us all up. Personally, I am not particularly in favor of dying--especially with him." Pell grunted inaudibly and turned to the speaker. "Okay, Gutridge, you win. Send the girl out first, then follow. You will be escorted to the surface and given a ship." Gutridge chuckled. "If it were anyone but the honorable Fletcher Pell who made that promise, I'd balk. All right, she's coming out."