There was a brief violent struggle, a grim thrashing, and then the gorilla straightened up. The humanoid remained on the floor.
Towers found the hall light, and snapped it on.
The gorilla saw Towers, and automatically snapped to a posture as close to attention as its physique allowed.
Towers bent over the inert hairy form on the floor. Seen in a good light, it looked considerably worse for wear than Logan did, and it showed no visible sign of life. Towers felt around till he located an artery. There seemed to be a very faint pulse.
He straightened up, and glanced at the gorilla. “Watch. If move—kill.”
The gorilla grunted obediently.
Towers went downstairs.
Logan was lying motionless at the bottom of the flight of steps, a gun near his hand. Towers shook him gently by the shoulder.
Logan grunted, and opened his eyes.
Towers said, “Who’s in charge of the guard detail tonight?”
“Cartwright,” said Logan, sitting up. He picked up the gun.
“Stay there,” said Towers.
“No, I’m coming, too.” Logan stumbled to his feet.
They went down the hall, past Towers’ office to an office marked “Guard and Security Detail.” They opened the door. Across the room, stretched out on a cot, lay a tall, uniformed figure with first lieutenant’s insignia.
Towers and Logan glanced at each other. Towers crossed the room, looked the figure over, and observed no marks or bruises. He took hold of a shoulder and gave it a rough shake.
Cartwright’s eyes came open. He groaned, looked at Towers, and abruptly sat up. His glance darted from Towers to Logan.
Towers looked at Logan. “Get the next man on the list.”
Logan gave Cartwright a long look, crossed the room, set his gun on the desk, and jerked open a drawer.
“I—” groaned Cartwright.
“Shut up,” said Towers.
Cartwright swallowed.
Logan was speaking into the phone, turned so he could keep an eye on the closed door.
Out in the hallway, an alarm bell set up its jarring clutter.
Towers looked at Cartwright. “Name for me the precautions you’ve taken since you came on duty tonight.”
“Sir, we’re inside a friendly camp. With guards all around us.”
Towers said, his voice grating, “Name for me the precautions you’ve taken since you came on duty tonight.”
Outside, there was a sound of something large and heavy running swiftly past. An instant later, the sound was repeated. Then repeated again.
Cartwright said, “I put a half-squad of gorillas in each end of the barracks where the captives are tied up. There was a little disturbance there around two o’clock, then everything settled down. I checked everything at four, then around half-past four—everything was quiet. I felt awfully tired and just lay down for a moment. I must have fallen asleep instantly.”
The door opened up and a strongly-built man in first lieutenant’s uniform came in, frowned at Cartwright, looked at Towers and Logan, froze and swallowed.
Logan had set down the phone and aimed his gun at the door, but now put the gun down and picked the phone up again. He hung up the phone, spoke briefly to the lieutenant, then turned to Towers.
“Nobody else heard anything. The Centrans had no trouble on the wall last night.”
“That leaves the prisoners,” said Towers.
“Sir,” said Cartwright earnestly, “the prisoners are guarded.”
“I’m going over there now, and see how they’re guarded,” said Towers. “Wait right here till I get back.”
Logan got up, and went out with him. When they were out in the hall, Towers said, “Hadn’t you better get that arm taken care of?”
“I want to see these well-guarded prisoners first,” said Logan.
* * *
They walked out into the gray light of dawn, and up the steps of the barracks across the way.
Towers opened the door, and a corporal nodding at a table in a small anteroom shot to his feet. “Attenshun!”
Six massive hairy forms in body armor snapped erect.
“Where are the prisoners?” said Towers.
“In the next room sir.”
“Quiet, aren’t they?”
“They settled down after they got a taste of that wire.”
“Let’s see them.”
The corporal opened up the door, and snapped on a light.
Towers stepped into a long room divided into three parts by a heavy wire mesh fence, with mesh carried across the walls, ceiling, and floor, and covering all the windows. The central portion of the room had a pile of straw on the floor and could be entered by a steel-and-wire door from either end.
“You see, sir,” said the corporal, “they can’t get out unless they spring the gate on this side, or the other gate. Then they have to come out the doors. We’re waiting for them.”
“Fine,” said Towers. “Where are they?”
“Under the straw, sir. That’s where they were the last time.” He took a long pole from the corner of the room, and rammed it through the heavy mesh into the pile of straw. “Funny,” he murmured.
Logan said, “Sir, that wire is stretched out of shape here and there, but I don’t see any break.”
“Neither do I, but there’s one somewhere.”
The corporal was getting frantic with his pole. “I know they’re here somewhere!”
“Look there,” said Towers. “At the ceiling. In the far corner.”
“It looks like a hole. But the wire isn’t broken.”
“Sir,” said the corporal. “They’re gone.”
“Open that gate,” said Towers.
The corporal unsnapped the lock, and lifted a bar that fastened the gate to its frame at several points. Towers and Logan walked in and looked up. In the far corner was a rough hole in the ceiling with wire stretched across it.
“Yes,” said Towers, studying it, “the edge of the wire on the ceiling was fastened to the wire of that fence with a kind of heavy loop, like a hog-ring. Look there.” On the floor nearby lay a thick piece of wire bent in the form of an open U. “They sprang the fasteners, got up between the two pieces the fasteners held together, tore the ceiling boards loose—then they were upstairs.” Towers glanced at the corporal. “Who told you to have half your squad in one end of the barracks and half in the other, with no one outside, or in here watching these prisoners?”
“Lieutenant Cartwright, sir. But about watching the prisoners, sir. If any of us were in the room with them, it seemed to drive them into fury. And that was getting through to the gorillas. We had to get out.”
“Was there anything to prevent you from drilling a peephole through the wall, so you could watch them without being seen?”
The corporal opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head dazedly.
“Next time,” said Towers angrily, “think.” He turned, left the prisoners’ cage, and with Logan close behind, went outside and back to the headquarters barracks. He paused at the door marked “Guard and Security Detail,” turned to Logan, and said, “You’d better get yourself taken care of.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll go see the medic right now.”
Outside, a Centran bugle was rousing the troops in the other part of camp. The day was just starting, and Towers felt as if he’d been rolled down a mountainside in a barrel. He opened the door, glanced at the perspiring Cartwright, and motioned him to come out. Towers shut the door and looked at him. There was a painful silence.
Towers said, “People in the Special Effects Team are not supposed to be stupid, Lieutenant. We’ve been on this planet not quite twenty-four hours, and we have had more dislocation from two officers who refused to think than from any other cause whatever. Major Logan and I were almost killed this morning. The Centran position here may break down anytime, so we’ve got to find a solution as quickly as possible. But thanks to your witless arrangements to guard the prisoners, and to your going to sleep when you were supposed to be awake, the whole business has been thrown into confusion. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Sir . . . there isn’t anything to be said.”
“What was the cause of this trouble?”
“I . . . I went to sleep . . . I—”
“Nuts,” said Towers furiously. “Why did you go to sleep?”
“I was tired . . . I didn’t—” He hesitated.
“Go on,” said Towers tensely.
“I didn’t think, sir.”
“All right. You’ve hit on the answer. Now, for the love of heaven, start thinking. If we don’t think in the Special Effects Team, who will?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’ll be more sorry, yet, before this is over. And every time you’re sorry, remember it’s because you didn’t think. Now, down this hall about halfway is my room. You can recognize it because the door is knocked in, and there’s a dead humanoid halfway through the window. Down at the end of the hall is Major Logan’s room, which you can recognize because it’s a shambles, the door is knocked off, and there’s a dead humanoid across a table knocked upside down. Clean up both rooms, deliver the humanoids to the medic for examination, and replace the doors, windows, and anything else that’s damaged. Do it yourself, with no help, then report to me. Don’t eat any breakfast. Don’t eat any lunch. Major Logan and I lost the benefit of sleep, and you are going to lose the benefit of those two meals. If I learn that you had anything whatever to eat before the evening meal, I will see to it that you wish you had never been born.”