"The ray!" Priscilla said in a faint voice. "It destroys the red blood corpuscles!"
Joel clenched his fist. "If I could reach any of those Ganelons with the Unfit, I could establish contact with the Thinkers. They're telepathic!"
"But can you get out of the palace?" Roos demanded.
Joel said, "Yes." He was surprised that Roos didn't seem to know about the secret passages.
The chief of the Asgardian police unpinned the gold and azure shield, the insignia of his office. "Take this. It'll get you through our lines." He made a wry grimace. "I've been at fault about the Ganelons. I hope it doesn't queer your mission."
It had cost Roos an effort to make that admission, Joel realized. He said, "I feel as if I were deserting...."
"Nonsense, man," the governor interrupted. "You're the one who's taking the risk. We can barricade ourselves in these rooms. We're safer here than anywhere else on Asgard."
Priscilla took Joel's face between her cool palms, kissed him passionately. "I—I love you, Joel. Please take care of yourself."
Joel was startled. Then his arms closed about her hungrily.
The governor cleared his throat. "There's a proper time and place for everything."