"Never trust old friends, Kevin. Colonel Di Orio didn't. He surprised
us in the Radio Room and we were forced to put him out of the way. Also
remember this: all members of the Liberacione carry gamma pistols."
Rinaldi pulled out his gamma gun and shot Ilaria through the middle.
Jay was horrified. He forgot where he was and when he was and what he
was doing. All he knew was that there was a cyanide gun at his hip and
that this man had shot Ilaria. His gun came up and sputtered.
The pellet caught Rinaldi just under the chin and burst. Rinaldi
collapsed.
"Had a--gamma gun--not ... deadly. Slow-acting ... radio-activity.
Hardly ... burned me. Come on--we've got to ... get back to the--Time
building."
"Oh, no we won't. You're hurt. We--"
"Don't argue. Sergeant! Saaarguunt!" Ilaria gasped at the exertion of
shouting. The Centurion ran in.
"We've got to--get to the--Time building."
"Rinaldi shot the Tribune. Rinaldi was a traitor," Jay explained
rapidly.
Ilaria's gun clicked and the Centurion shuddered back and fell through
the door. The gamma burst from his pistol hit the wall.
"God! Is everyone a traitor?" Jay demanded of the Universe.
* * * * *
People are easily swayed. It didn't take them long to espouse the new
cause. They were helped along in their decision by the Liberacione
planes hovering overhead with loads of KCN-H2SO4 bombs. The whispering
campaign Lamberti had carefully started about germ warfare helped, too.
Those who didn't switch over rapidly were jumped by the new forces.
Tribune Ilaria in Louisville, Kentucky, in America held out as long
as he could. Then the bombers came. And the Tribune fled to the Time
building.
The building shook. A table shivered and a lamp shattered. A jet
fighter flew close by the window and the Centurion watched fearfully as
it flipped on one delta wing and fired a tracer burst into a PR ship.
The defender exploded in mid-air.
Ilaria looked twenty years older than the man who had smiled and
welcomed Jay Welch to 2054. He and a young scientist were preparing the
machine to send the man from 1954 back to his own time.
"You'll have to leave the gun here, Jay." Ilaria winced as he bent over
a set of dials.
"I'd like to keep the uniform."
"All right. Does that do it, Doctor?"
The scientist nodded. He looked at Jay. "It's ready," he said.
"This switch sets everything in motion, doesn't it?" Ilaria asked.
"Yes. That's the final control."
"Then ... I'll do it. I'd like ... to say something to Jay before he
leaves."
The scientist hesitated a moment, then shrugged and left. The Centurion
went to the door. He was a young man and fanatically loyal.
"You all right, Tribune?"