"Frankly, Matt, they're raising hell. They demand that they be
released."
"Let them demand."
"Well, what are you going to do with them?"
Matt said, "That must be decided later." He cast a sidelong glance at
Lynn. "At the moment, it's more important that we get organized."
"Yes," agreed the director, "but some of the men are--er--anxious that
the prisoners' fate be settled. In fact one or two were inclined to
take it into their own hands. Nesbit's in back of it."
Matt's jaw set. He smashed his fist on the table so that the cups
danced. "Oh, no! We're not going to have those women running loose
inside the fort. They'd be worse than a Trojan horse any day.
"We've got work to do. And until we get settled, those women stay
behind bars."
Isaac swallowed. "I'm in complete accord. After all, I'm beyond the age
when women mean anything to me, but Nesbit--"
"Then that's settled!" said Matt emphatically and went on with his
breakfast.
All at once a low buzzing began to sound. "Door?" Matt asked.
Lynn shook her head. "Televisor." She threw a switch in the wall behind
her and a small inset screen glowed into life. Captain Bascom's square
visage filled the screen.
"So you're finally up," he began without preamble. "You're none too
soon. The delegates from the women's camp are on their way with a white
flag."
"How many?" Matt asked.
"Four."
"O.K.," said Matt. "Let them in and lock them in the brig. I'll talk to
them later."
Captain Bascom looked shocked. "But they're coming with a white flag to
parley...."
"I don't care if they're coming with angels. The more we capture, the
less are still outside opposing us. Throw them in the jail with the
others."