I was watching the men and calling to them again; they had the door open a little; now they dropped back, but they could look in.
“They’re dead,” said Reed’s voice.
“Sure,” said the other. Then I missed Doris; and when I saw her, she was at the top of the stairs where she had first appeared. She had the door open and she was standing in it, looking back; then she slammed it. I was after her, but she had too good a lead. On the third floor, she entered the Sencort offices and left me on the back stairs with a bolted door between us.
I beat upon it and shouted and then realized, too late, that my best chance was to go to the ground and head her off. Of course I never headed her; she was gone.
When I returned upstairs, Reed had ventilated the directors’ room by opening the windows from the outside ledge. He had taken out the four guinea pigs he had left penned on the top of the directors’ table. They were all dead without visible hurt or reason.
Teverson came out of his conference, which was being held on the third floor; and he turned the limp guinea pigs over thoughtfully.
“There’s only one reason those aren’t Strathon and Géroud and Sencort and me, Fanneal,” he said, looking at me. “You want to do one more big thing for us and against—them?” He moved his head toward the wall; I knew whom he meant.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Keep this all quiet. It’s asking something, I know.”