Then, at long last, the building entrance yawned ahead.
Sobbing for breath, I raced towards it.
Simultaneously, a knot of hurrying men appeared, crowding in from the street and blocking off the doorway. They were grouped about a bulky, familiar figure ... the figure of FedGov Interplanetary Security Controller Alfred Kruze.
For me, it was a moment straight out of nightmare ... a lightning-flash of horror, lifted from one of those awful dreams in which you run and run and run only somehow your legs won't seem to work.
Desperately, I tried to reverse direction.
It was too late. I couldn't brake in time.
Someone yelled as I careened into the group. I glimpsed distended eyes, a startled face. Clawing, I tried to twist past the wall of bodies and slide out the door.
I might have made it, then. But suddenly a bull-voice roared, "Hold him, rack you! Hold him!"
Controller Kruze's voice.