Not that I wasted time looking for help. I wasn't used to it.
Outside the Solar Shipping building I lifted the air-scooter and swooped up to the balcony outside Shanig's office windows. There wasn't time to set it down. I needed every second to get inside before Shanig could give the alarm.
I jumped, and the air-scooter went on without me into the night. It wouldn't have worked on Earth, but under Mars' .38 gravity an athletic homo has all the breaks. I landed just inside the guard-rail and dived through the balcony windows with a great crashing of glass before Shanig could clap a hand to the buzzer on his desk.
"Don't touch it," I said, and turned my Quantrell on him.
"You!" Shanig barked. His face went sallower than ever, but his hot black eyes didn't waver. "What do you want here?"
Down the corridor rose a sudden babel of voices—Shanig's crew returning with their prize.
"They got Acree," I said, heading for the phonovision unit beside Shanig's desk. "But if you make a sound before they get here you won't be able to use him. Clear?"