“I can imagine,” cut in Roberts shortly. “How many of them are there?”
“Hundreds. One never knows exactly. They are sent each week. Some die, of course, but most live on and on....”
“Can you shoot?”
Bowen grimaced.
“I used to,” he answered. “I’ll have to, now. Each of us will take as many guns as he can stow away. And plenty of ammunition. Enough so we can give arms to your friends. Merely reaching them will be simple enough. That will not finish it, though. We must go on.”
“Fight our way out, you mean?”
“Oh yes, that of course. But first fight our way further in! It would not do simply to escape.”
“Why not?”
Bowen grinned wryly. He fumbled in a hidden pocket, coming out with a flat bit of green stone oddly carved with interlaced dragons—a jade pendant.
“Know anything about this?” he asked.