Wiss, the Texcocan scientist, held his wrist radio to his mouth and
said, "Come in now."
Dick Hawkins thumbed back the hammer of his hand gun.
"Hold it a minute, Dick," Barry Watson said. "I don't like this." To
Taller he rapped, "What goes on here? Talk up, you're just about a dead
man."
And it was then that they heard the scraping on the outer hull.
The six Earthmen looked at the overhead, dumfounded.
"I suggest you put up your weapons," Taller said quietly. "At this late
stage I would hate to see further bloodshed."
In moments they heard the opening and closing of locks and footsteps
along the corridor. The door opened and in stepped,
Joe Chessman, Amschel Mayer, Mike Dean, Louis Rosetti, and an emaciated
Jerry Kennedy. Their expressions ran the gamut from sheepishness to
blank haughtiness.
MacDonald bug-eyed. "Dean ... Rosetti ... the Temple priests burned you
at the stake!"
They grinned at him, shamefaced. "Guess not," Dean said. "We were
kidnaped. We've been teaching basic science, in some phony monastery."
Watson's face was white. "Joe," he said.
"Yeah," Joe Chessman growled. "You sold me out. But Taller and the
Texcocans thought I was still of some use."
Amschel Mayer snapped, bitterly, "And now if you fools will put down
your stupid guns, we'll make the final arrangements for returning this
expedition to Terra City. Personally, I'll be glad to get away!"
Behind the five resurrected Earthmen were a sea of faces representing
the foremost figures of both Texcoco and Genoa in every field of
endeavor. At least fifty of them in all.
As though protectively, the eleven Earthmen ganged together at the far
side of the messtable they'd met over so often.