"Get the key out of his pocket,* directed Greg. “Go and see how Chambers is."
Alone in the control room with Stutsman, Greg looked at him.
"I have a score to settle with you, Stutsman,” he said. “I had intended to let it ride, but not now."
"You can't touch me,” blustered Stutsman. “You wouldn't dare."
"What makes you think I wouldn't?"
"You're bluffing. You've got a lot of tricks, but you can't do the things you would like me to think you can. You've got Chambers and Craven fooled, but not me.” “It may be that I can offer you definite proof."
Chambers staggered over the threshold. His clothing was rumpled. A rude bandage was wound around his head. His face was haggard and his eyes red.
"Hello, Manning,” he said. “I suppose you've won. The Solar System must be in your control by now."
He lifted his hand to his mustache, brushed it, a feeble attempt at playing the old role he'd acted so long.
"We've won,” said Greg quietly, “but you're wrong about our being in control. The governments are in the hands of the people, where they should be."