The bottle clinked against glasses for a second round. "What about the good corporal?" Retief asked. "Assuming he's a strong swimmer, you should be hearing from him soon."
Corasol glanced at his finger watch. "I imagine he'll be launching his gas attack any minute."
"The prospect doesn't seem to bother you."
"Sozier is a clever enough chap in his own way," Corasol said. "But he has a bad habit of leaping to conclusions. He's gotten hold of a tank of what someone has told him is gas—as indeed it is. Hydrogen, for industrial use. It seems the poor fellow is under the impression that anything masquerading as gas will have a lethal effect."
"He may be right—if he pumps it in fast enough."
"Oh, he won't be pumping it. Not after approximately five minutes from now."
"Hmmm. I think I'm beginning to see the light. 'Power off at sunset.'"
Corasol nodded. "I don't think he realizes somehow that all his vehicles are operating off broadcast power."
"Still, he has a good-sized crowd of hopefuls with him. How do you plan to get through them?"
"We don't. We go under. There's an extensive system of service ways underlying the city; another detail which I believe has escaped the corporal's notice."