With a glance around to see that none of his companions were close enough to intercept him, Jackson made a run for the gate. When he arrived there, the Kralon guide had already unlocked it and was waiting for him. Rapidly it led the way up the beaten path to the Hive entrance and down the long corridor to the conference room.
The Voderist sat ready at the instrument, and it was evident that the Kralon was maintaining its posture with difficulty. The DDT was apparently having a pronounced effect.
A number of the council members were present, and they too seemed to be showing effects from the chemical. But their multi-faceted eyes regarded the salesman with unmistakable enmity.
"Human," said the Voder in tones as severe as possible for the mechanical contrivance, "what trickery have you and your companions used to poison the air of the Hive?"
"I didn't," denied Jackson, shrinking back from the virulence of those inhuman eyes and the very real menace of the huge pincers.
Back in the stockade, Randall and his council members had heard the Kralon voice, and had seen Jackson disappear with the guard. The agent was sick at heart, for he knew that this meant the destruction of all their carefully formulated plans.
If they had only had a few hours more, the DDT would certainly have rendered the Kralons vulnerable to attack.
Randall quickly conferred with his group. Following the directions the agent gave, Malherne ran back to one of the shelters and brought rope.
Randall handed the rope to McClellan without comment. The Australian silently improvised a hondo, made a loop, and twirled it skillfully. He tossed it over the top of one of the pilings, watched it settle into place, then tugged it tight.