That permission was very readily given. Joey remembered what the Pyramids had done to its own planet.
"Come on!" ordered Joey in Tropile's filtered voice, and they hastened through a straight and achingly cramped tunnel in single file, toward what Tropile had said was their target.
They had nearly reached it when, abruptly, there was a thundering of explosions ahead.
The party stopped, looked at each other, and got ready to move on more slowly.
At last it had started. The Pyramids were beginning to fight back.
XIII
Citizeness Roget Germyn, widow, woke from sleep like a well-mannered cat on the narrow lower third of the bed that her training had taught her to occupy, though it had been some days since her husband's Translation had emptied the Citizen's two-thirds permanently.
Someone had tapped gently on her door.
"I am awake," she called, in a voice just sufficient to carry.