“It does indeed,” Douglas said. “Now get back—clear back against the wall.”
George snarled but didn’t move.
“I’ll count three,” Douglas said, “and if you’re not back by then I’ll burn you down. You’ll obey even if you won’t do anything else.—one—two—”
George retreated to the far end of his cell.
“Now face the wall.” Douglas tossed the gas capsule into the cell. The thin-walled container broke, releasing a cloud of vapor. George crumpled to the floor. “Now we wait a couple of minutes for the gas to dissipate,” Douglas said. “After that he’s all yours. You can go in and put the irons on him.”
“Will he be out long?” Kennon asked.
“About five minutes. After that he’ll have muscular control.” Douglas chuckled. “They’re stupid,” he said. “They know what gas does to them, but they never have sense enough to hold their breath. They could be twice as much trouble as they are. All right, it’s safe to go in now.” Douglas let the gun dangle in his hand.
Kennon unlocked the door.
And George rolled over, muscles bunched and driving! He hit the door with such force that Kennon was slammed against the wall, dazed—half stunned by the speed of the attack. George—he had time to think in one brief flash—wasn’t stupid. He had held his breath for the necessary two minutes!
Douglas jerked the blaster up and fired, but his target was too quick. George dropped and rolled. The sizzling streak of violet flashed inches above his body and tore a six-inch hole through the back of the cell. And then George was on him! The huge, marvelously fast hands of the humanoid wrenched the blaster out of Douglas’s hands and jerked him forward. A scream burst from Douglas as George’s hands closed around his neck. Muscles sprang into writhing life in the humanoid’s huge forearms. There was a soft, brittle crack, and Douglas sagged limp in the iron grip that held him dangling.