"And I'm a governor. Come along."
They walked out into the yard. The air was fresh, all right. A handful
of cons, double-guarded by sleepy and irritable men from the day shift,
were hosing down the rubble on the cobblestones. The yard was a mess,
but it was quiet now. The helicopters were still riding their picket
line, glowing softly in the early light that promised sunrise.
"My car," the governor said quietly to a state policeman who appeared
from nowhere. The trooper snapped a salute and trotted away.
"I killed a man," said Sue-Ann Bradley, looking a little ill.
"You saved a man," corrected the governor. "Don't weep for that Lafon.
He was willing to kill a thousand men if he had to, to break out of
here."
"But he never did break out," said Sue-Ann.
The governor stretched contentedly. "He never had a chance. Laborers
and clerks join together in a breakout? It would never happen. They
don't even speak the same language--as you have discovered, my dear."
* * * * *