* * * * *
He became very solicitous then--after first ascertaining that Fluel
had left the Executive Block unaccompanied, on personal business. He
located a pain killer spray in Reetal's bedroom and applied it to the
bruised point below the back of her neck. She was just beginning to
relax gratefully, as the warm glow of the spray washed out the pain
and the feeling of paralysis, when Kinmarten, lying on the carpet
nearby, began to stir and mutter.
[Illustration]
Quillan hastily put down the spray.
"Watch him!" he cautioned. "I'll be right back. If he sits up, yell.
He's a bit wild at the moment. If he wakes up and sees the Duke lying
there, he'll start climbing the walls."
"What--" Reetal began. But he was gone down the hall.
He returned immediately with a glass of water, went down on one knee
beside Kinmarten, slid an arm under the rest warden's shoulder, and
lifted him to a sitting position.
"Wake up, old pal!" he said loudly. "Come on, wake up! Got something
good for you here--"
"What are you giving him?" Reetal asked, cautiously massaging the back
of her neck.
"Knockout drops. I already had to lay him out once. We want to lock
him up with his wife now, and if he comes to and tells her what's
happened, they'll both be out of their minds by the time we come to
let them out--"
He interrupted himself. Kinmarten's eyelids were fluttering. Quillan
raised the glass to his lips. "Here you are, pal," he said in a deep,
soothing voice. "Drink it! It'll make you feel a lot better."
Kinmarten swallowed obediently, swallowed again. His eyelids stopped
fluttering. Quillan lowered him back to the floor.
"That ought to do it," he said.
"What," Reetal asked, "did happen? The Duke--"
"Tell you as much as I can after we get Kinmarten out of the way. I
have to get back to the Executive Block. Things are sort of teetering
on the edge there." He jerked his head at Fluel's body. "I want to
know about him, too, of course. Think you can walk now?"
Reetal groaned. "I can try," she said.
They found Solvey Kinmarten dissolved in tears once more. She flung
herself on her husband's body when Quillan place him on the bed. "What
have those _beasts_ done to Brock?" she demanded fiercely.
"Nothing very bad," Quillan said soothingly. "He's, um, under sedation
at the moment, that's all. We've got him away from them now, and he's
safe ... look at it that way. You stay here and take care of him.
We'll have the whole deal cleared up before morning, doll. Then you
can both come out of hiding again." He gave her an encouraging wink.
"I'm so very grateful to both of you--"
"No trouble, really. But we'd better get back to work on the thing."
"Heck," Quillan said a few seconds later, as he and Reetal came out on
the other side of the portal, "I feel like hell about those two. Nice
little characters! Well, if the works blow up, they'll never know it."
"_We_'ll know it," Reetal said meaningly. "Start talking."
He rattled through a brief account of events in the Executive Block,
listened to her report on the Duke's visit, scratched his jaw
reflectively.
"That might help!" he observed. "They're about ready to jump down
each other's throats over there right now. A couple more pushes--" He
stood staring down at the Duke's body for a moment. Blood soiled the
back of the silver jacket, seeping out from a tear above the heart
area. Quillan bent down, got his hands under Fluel's armpits, hauled
the body upright.