"I think we got a chance, guv'nor," he muttered softly. "Them mists that don't 'ave germs. They're worth lots. People will pay plenty for h'air without germs."
The big man and the little man swung toward the door. They paused at the threshold and glanced back.
"We'll give you a chance to think it over, Emerson," Mussdorf grated. "You can use a few billions, same as us. We aren't hogs. We're willing to share—"
"Get out!" Emerson spat.
Mussdorf shrugged and followed Gunn into the corridor, carefully closing the door behind him. He glanced both ways frowning.
"We don't know this space," he said slowly. "Stick close to me, Til. We might meet some more of that beast's pals. He's too much for us physically, but damned if I don't believe we got more grey matter than him and his whole tribe, if we use it right!"
They went along the black marble flooring for long minutes. The thick drapes along the walls muffled their footsteps, but they cast anxious glances behind them. The eerie silence that overhung the place scratched at their uneasy nerves.
Mussdorf's hand vised on Gunn until the little man whimpered.
Behind them there was the slow shuffle of a mighty body.
"In here," snapped Mussdorf, drawing Gunn with him into a niche sculped in the marble wall. They pressed back, drawing the drapes about them. Biting on their tongues, they held their breaths.