groped from a narrow passage, feeling after the purse at his belt. He slapped, and the childâs bare feet pattered away into darkness.
Damn fool thing to do, he thought. I could be murdered for my cash. Letâs find us a cop and get out of here, son.
He walked on down the street. A legless beggar whined at him, but he didnât dare show his money. New legs could have been grown, but that was a costly thing. Well behind, a tattered pair followed him. Where the hell was a policeman? Didnât anyone care what happened down here?
A huge shape came around a corner. It had four legs, a torso with arms, a nonhuman head. Langley hailed it. âWhich is the way out? Whereâs the nearest shaft going up? Iâm lost.â
The alien looked blankly at him and went on. No spikka da Inglees. Etie Town, the section reserved for visitors of other races, was somewhere around here. That might be safe, though most of the compartments would be sealed off, their interiors poisonous to him. Langley went the way the stranger had come. His followers shortened the distance between.
Music thumped and wailed from an open door. There was a bar, a crowd, but not the sort where he could look for help. As the final drug mists cleared, Langley realized that he might be in a very tight fix.
Two men stepped out of a passage. They were husky, well dressed for commoners. One of them bowed. âCan I do you a service, sir?â
Langley halted, feeling the coldness of his own sweat. âYes,â he said thickly. âYes, thanks. How do I get out of this section?â
âA stranger, sir?â They fell in, one on either side. âWeâll, conduct you. Right this way.â
Too obliging! âWhat are you doing down here?â snapped Langley.
âJust looking around, sir.â
The speech was too cultivated, too polite. These arenât commoners any more than I am! âNever mind. IâI donât want to bother you. Just point me right.â
âOh, no, sir. That would be dangerous. This is not a good area to be alone in.â A large hand fell on his arm.
âNo!â Langley stopped dead.
âWe must insist, Iâm afraid.â An expert shove, and he was being half dragged. âYouâll be all right, sir, just relax, no harm.â
The tall shape of a slave policeman hove into view. Langleyâs breath rattled in his throat. âLet me go,â he said. âLet me go, orââ
Fingers closed on his neck, quite unobtrusively, but he gasped with pain. When he had recovered himself, the policeman was out of sight again.
Numbly, he followed. The portal of a grav-shaft loomed before him. They tracked me, he thought bitterly. Of course they did. I donât know how stupid a man can get, but Iâve been trying hard tonight.
Three men appeared, almost out of nowhere. They wore the gray robes of the Society. âAh,â said one. âYou found him. Thank you.â
âWhatâs this?â Langleyâs companions recoiled. âWhoâre you? What dâyou want?â
âWe wish to see the good captain home,â answered one of the newcomers. His neatly bearded face smiled, and a gun jumped into his hand.
âThatâs illegalâthat weaponââ
âPossibly. But youâll be very dead if you donâtâthatâs better. Just come with us, Captain, if you please.â
Langley entered the shaft between his new captors. There didnât seem to be much choice.
The strangers did not speak, but hurried him along. They seemed to know all the empty byways. Their progress upwards was roundabout but fast, and hardly another face was seen en route. Langley tried to relax, feeling himself swept along a dark and resistless tide.
Upper town again, shining pinnacles and loops of diamond light against the stars. The air was warm and sweet in his lungs, but he wondered how much longer he would breathe it. Not far from the
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