"Good. Now put a blanket or something over that window so that the guard can't see a light."
When the window was blacked out and a candle had been lit, Newhouse bent over the unconscious female. The sleep gun had done its work well.
"All right, di Vino, help me get this harness on her. We're kidnapping the Shannil."
"Kidnap the—" Di Vino choked and blinked. "But I'm the one who's supposed to get out of here."
"I'll explain the whole thing when she's gone. Come on! We haven't much time!"
When the Shannil was securely fixed in the harness, Newhouse turned up the power until her weight was a minus twenty pounds. Then he fastened a length of strong plaston cording to the harness. Then he calmly tossed her out the window. She fell upwards fairly rapidly.
When the cord was taut, Newhouse tied the end of it around the arm of a heavy silverwood chair. "That's that," he said. "Now all we have to do is wait."
Boccaccio di Vino said: "Wait? For what? What's going on?"
"Your lady-love is about two hundred feet over the citadel, with a signalling gadget on her. There's been an aircar hovering on its antigravs up there for the last two hours. When they pick up the signal, they'll pick up the girl. Simple, isn't it?"
"But what are they going to do?"