Retief's left fist shot out to connect solidly with Jake's jaw. Jake dropped the gun and sat down hard. Retief turned and headed for the pumping station. The hose had shut down now. A few men were standing, eyeing the building anxiously. Others watched his progress across the square. As Retief passed, he caught scattered comments:
"—seen that bird before."
"—where he's headed."
"—feller Sozier was talking to...."
"Hey, you!"
Retief was on the grass now. Ahead, the blank wall loomed up. He walked on briskly.
"Stop that jasper!" a shout rang out. There was a sharp whine and a black spot appeared on the wall ahead. Near it, a small personnel door abruptly swung inward. Retief sprinted, plunged through the opening as a second shot seared the paint on the doorframe. The door clanged behind him. Retief glanced over the half dozen men confronting him.
"I'm Retief, CDT, acting Charge," he said. "Which of you gentlemen is Manager-General Corasol?"
Corasol was a tall, wide-shouldered man of fifty, with shrewd eyes, a ready smile, capable-looking hands and an urbane manner. He and Retief sat at a table at one side of the large room, under a maze of piping, tanks and valves. Corasol poured amber fluid into square glass tumblers.