Then a volley from the massed guards struck into them. Barlow felt something strike him on the side. He staggered and almost fell as a burning thread of agony lanced through his body. But the rage upheld him, made him fight on.
Others passed him. Laurine ran ahead. He fell to the ground, then fought his way to his hands and knees and crawled toward Dodson and his subordinates. He saw Laurine leap at the men at the projector. They went to the ground, fighting and kicking in utter disregard of all rules.
The bullets of the guards were dropping men and women all around him. Many struggled up to fight their way onward, but many stayed down.
Barlow reached the projector, grasped the tripod to lift himself up. He saw dimly that Dodson and his officers were clamoring at the gate to be freed from the bloody courtyard, but the portals had been closed to retain the prisoners and now did as well for the Director.
Weakly, Barlow turned the projector around. He had to lean over it to stay up, but he threw its beam over those at the gate. They went down like dead men, slow and easily. Then the guards, then....
The rage was leaving him. Blackness was closing in around his mind. He sagged over the projector, and dragged it to the ground with him.
The blackness around his mind first parted to allow a tiny pricking of pain to dart into his mind. Then, as though the neural dams had broken, agony came. He twisted to escape it, and from far away a voice spoke soothingly.
The agony faded slowly and he became conscious of light. He saw a white-garbed figure near him. The face was pretty and feminine, and in the woman's hand was a hypodermic syringe. His mind cleared slowly and he saw more clearly. He was in a hospital.
He turned and saw Laurine and Valnar standing at the other side of the bed. Laurine's hand was bandaged and her face scratched but otherwise she seemed uninjured. She smiled at him.