"Yes, Slade, they do," murmured the warden.
"Precisely," Lansing said. "When it looked as if the cold war would get rather warm, the allied governments faced up to the fact that our venerable planet might become a ... ah, a battle casualty. So, in carefully selected regions, rather extensive preparations were made for a hurried departure from this sector of the universe."
"Oh, come to the point!" Knox exploded. "All you people need to know is that one of those regions is this area of the Rocky Mountains, that the ships are built and ready to go, and that you're to get aboard. Fast!"
"That," nodded Lansing, "is it."
The four prison officials looked at each other. Halloran and Court sat quiet; Goldsmid slowly dropped his eyes to the ground and his lips moved. Slade scratched his chin.
"Going to Mars, hey?" he asked abruptly.
"That's our destination."
The doctor chuckled. "Comic-book stuff," he chortled.
"No, it isn't," Halloran said. "We've been expecting something like this for a long time. Haven't we?"