She wished that she had not made the Earth call. There would have been much more to leave them then. He had left an astonishing amount in her account. It was almost as though he had expected her to try to get away. She wished now that she had thought before taking action. There might have been some way out.
She must have fallen asleep. The morning announcements came on as usual, waking her. She listened to the instructions for that day, and the areas announced as forbidden. She made no effort, however, to indicate them on the day-map. She knew that, now, none of this applied to her.
With a very great effort she got up and shut off the children's ramp, so that they could not come down. She knew how much this would count in her favor. Then she began, as hurriedly as she could, to collect the things they would need. She knew that she could not possibly get the things together in time, and that so late an effort was more likely to count against her. She was not even close to finished when the announcer flashed on.
Without asking who it was, she pressed the admitter. She was glad that they had troubled to announce themselves.
She offered to go into another room while they removed the children. They did not answer. One of them threw a sack over her. After a moment, they took it off again and, rather apologetically, asked her to indicate where the child-ramp control was. She showed them. Their leader said that perhaps it would be all right for her to go into another room if one of them went with her. When she saw the one chosen, she put the sack back on herself. They laughed so hard at this that she did not hear the children leave.
When the children had been taken out, the leader came back and removed the sack from around her. He asked if she had applied for protection. She showed her card.
"Well, that's too bad," he said. "Do you have any refreshment left?"
She did not dare to lie to him. She showed him. He helped himself.
"How about credits?" he asked.