In the agitated shaking of the metal hands that supported him by the upper arms, Stanton blinked wildly at Ultrablack, and choked out, "Let me go! I demand that you release me!"
"You're no longer in a position to demand anything," Bodger said softly. "I have your skinny carcass covered with a Snapper. You may as well relax."
"Bodger.... What are you going to do?" Stanton said, no longer fighting the grip of the prop-Goon's hands.
"Take you to the Brain. Make you countermand all your orders regarding the Goons."
"And if I don't?" Stanton said, warily. "What will you do if I refuse?"
"Kill you," Bodger said, and his tone rang true. "I don't want to do it that way, of course—not for reasons of pity; heaven knows you need killing, Fred—but because it's faster this way. With you dead, we'd simply elect a new President, and then he could countermand your orders. That could take days, though, days of the Ultrablack you had Madge Benedict instigate in this emergency. It would be too tedious convincing the Kinsmen to Vote in the dark on a proposition they couldn't see."
"I—" Stanton said blankly, "I thought you'd force Madge to turn on Light-of-Day."
"We would, but Lloyd mistakenly ordered her held incommunicado," Bodger said tiredly. "He didn't know that was another of your pet phrases synonymous with death."
"Good Lord!" Lloyd moaned in the darkness. "I didn't dream—"
"Madge brought it on herself, working hand in glove with Stanton, son," Bodger said. "You did not know. The point is, only Stanton or his personal Secretary could have called off the emergency. So now we have to get tough with him."