He shouted back down, and ran on, his heart pounding, his lungs pumping.
He came into the grotesque room of angled steel that was the inside of the giant head. There was a carefully shaded light here. And a man huddled on the floor near it, shackled to the wall.
Wales turned the light full on him. A bearded face looked at him, with wild dark eyes—a face he could hardly recognize.
"Lee?" he said. And then suddenly, he was sure. "Lee Kendrick."
Kendrick said, hesitantly, "Why it's Jay Wales. But you were on Mars. How—" And then Kendrick's eyes suddenly flamed and he shouted hoarsely. "Wales, you don't know what's happened, what they're planning—"
"I know," Wales said, stooping by him. "Take it easy. Please—"
Kendrick clutched him, babbling, pleading. Not until Martha came in, and stooped beside her brother, crying, could Wales get away.
He said, "Try to quiet down. There must be a key to these shackles somewhere."
He went back down the stair. The man he had shot in the shoulder and then stunned, was now stirring and groaning.