At the console, the old man looked up at Dan. He put his hand out and felt Dan's belt. Apparently the tingle reassured him and he seemed to accept Dan without further question.
"This is about the end," he said. "When that statue goes, those men will feel the jolt and open their eyes. They're the last formed body of troops on the planet, and when they go, we'll have nothing to strike with. There must be something I could devise for this, but I've been up three nights and I can't think."
"Can you delay it?" asked Dan, grappling with the beginning of his plan.
"Oh, we'll delay it. I've got the last of the sweepers collected at the holes opening into the square. Just when that statue begins to tip, I'll let the sweepers out. That will stop things for a while. Then they'll kill the sweepers and my bolt is shot."
"Won't the men you've got here fire on those blue-caped fakes?"
"Devisement," said the old man, shaking his head, "you know better."
"Are there any fire hoses? Will your men squirt water on the blue-caped ones?"
"Yes," said the old man, leaning forward. "They'll get shot. But yes, they will. What is it? What are you devising?"
Dan outlined his plan. The old man's eyes lighted. He nodded and Dan went out and climbed with guides through a grim, dark tunnel where the sweepers were kept. He peered out the hole, and as across the street the statue began to tip, he burst outside and sprinted into the square.