"Haven't you seen round this house?" asked Donnell. "I've had it ready for years, just for something like this. I'll take you round, if you like, and you can see for yourself."
Jill tightened the belt of her coat.
"I'll look round on my own, if you don't mind," she said. "I know what to look for, and it probably isn't what you'd show me. Give Weald a drink while I'm gone — I guess he needs it."
She went out, and Donnell picked up a bottle and a glass. He poured out four good fingers of the spirit, and Weald grabbed it and drank it neat. Then he turned to Donnell; the fire-water had steadied him up a bit — in a way.
"You believe it isn't a joke?" he said.
Donnell nodded.
"Yes, I believe it now."
"I'm up against it," panted Weald flabbily. "I'm up against it much more than you are. They can only get you for a bashing, but they can get me for a lot more."
"Ever beat up a 'tec?"
"More than that. I can't tell you. They might. Donnell, you've got to get us out of this!"