He heard Marshal Denton sigh heavily. "No, Jon. There's some communication over old electric-type instruments. In some places there's rioting. Everywhere, it's cold, and people are frightened and disorganized. There hasn't been time for lack of food to make itself felt."
"Stuff could move over the railroads, Sir," cut in McTavish.
"The Specialists have forbidden that," the Marshal told him. "Because of danger of accidents."
"Accidents!" snapped the Engineer scornfully. "Worrying about accidents at a time like this!"
Jon spoke impatiently. "May I suggest Sir, that you send a body of men to Congress. Surround the building, cut outside communications. When the darkness lifts, search every Congressman, and arrest any found with firearms. You can bet the plotters will be armed. But the Congress will have to be suspended until every member is thoroughly investigated!"
He felt Almira stiffen in his arms, and heard McTavish exclaim: "Good, man!"
"Suspend the Congress—" Marshal Denton repeated, shocked. "Jon, you—"
"It's an emergency, Sir," McPartland urged. "It's war. You're the supreme military commander. You have the right to act on your own initiative whenever the Congress of Specialists cannot function. They can't function now! You can't let them be stampeded into surrender. There must be no surrender!"
For a long minute, there was silence in the blackness about him. "I'll do it, Jon!" Denton said at last. "Captain Wendall!"
A man answered somewhere beyond him. Denton gave swift orders, and the other moved away. "My men will be at the Congress in five minutes, Jon," the Marshal said. "Now, just how do you propose to fight this thing? We have to be right, now, you know. We must win—or be executed as traitors!"