"But, my gosh, I didn't send anybody, chief. And this is no joke. That wasn't Myrtle, that was Crystal James, old man James' daughter. They're about the oldest family on Venus. Police have been after her for months; she's a rebel and she's sure been raising plenty of hell around here. She got in and blew out the main communications control panel last night. Communications been tied up all day." Pete lowered his voice to an appreciative whisper, "Gosh, chief, I didn't know you had it in you. How long have you been in with that bunch? Is that girl as good-looking as they say she is?"
"Now listen here, Brent. I don't know—"
"Oh, it's all right, chief. You can trust me. I won't give you away."
"There's nothing to give away, you fool!" Brian bellowed. "I don't know anything about any damn rebels. All I want is to get out of here—"
"Gotcha, chief," Brent whispered understandingly. "I'll see if I can pass the word along."
"Come here, you idiot!" Brian screamed after his erstwhile assistant.
"Pipe down there, bud," a guard's voice cut in chillingly.
Brian retired to his cell bunk and clutched his aching head in frustrated fury.
For the nineteenth time Brian Hanson strode to the door of his cell and rattled the bars.
"Listen here, guard, you've got to take a message to McHague. You can't hold me here indefinitely."