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He'd already captured one of the pikes. Now he grinned tightly at Gordon and began moving toward him. Gordon nodded in a brawl such as this, two working together had a distinct advantage. Then a yell sounded as more Legals poured down the street. One of them was obviously Izzy, wearing the same green as the others! Gordon felt something hit his back, and instinctively fell, soaking up the blow.

"Yeah, the Legals want the Crusader for their propaganda," he said wearily. "New slogans and new uniforms, and none of them mean anything. Here!" He drew a small golden band from his little finger. "My mother's wedding ring. Give it to her and if you tell her it came from me, I'll rip out your guts!" He got up suddenly and hobbled out, his pinched face working.

Sheila was holding the door of a large three-wheeler open. They ducked into it, while she grabbed the wheel. They edged forward until they could make out the shape of the fight going on. The Legals had never quite reached the front of the building, obviously, and were now cut into sections. Corey tapped her shoulder, pointing out the rout, and she gunned the car.

All kinds of supplies were low, and the outlands beyond Marsport had cut off all shipments. Scrip was useless to them, and the Legals were raiding all cargoes destined for Wayne's section. And the Municipals had imposed new taxes again. He came back from what should have been his day off to find Izzy in uniform, waiting grimly.

He moved forward to the press, staring at it, and there were tears in his eyes as he ran his hands over the broken metal. Then he looked up at them. "Arrest or rescue?" he asked. "Arrest!" a voice from the door said harshly, and Bruce Gordon swung to see six Legals filing in, headed by Hendrix himself. The captain nodded at Gordon. "Good work, Sergeant.

Trench was quite right; you're fully authorized. Did you call me out of bed just to check on that, young man?" "No, I " Then he hung up. Hendrix had dropped to his knees and fired before Trench could knock the gun from his hands. There was no answering fire. The Legals simply came boiling down the street, equipped with long pikes with lead-weighted ends.

He had no clear idea of how the battles were going, but it looked as if the Seventh Precinct was still in Municipal hands. There was no one at the side entrance to Seventh Precinct Headquarters and only two corporals on duty inside; the rest were probably out fighting the Legals, or worrying about it.

Once I broke every strong-man record on Earth still stand, too. But not now. Senile!" "You didn't have to come," Izzy said. "When my own granddaughter comes crying for help? When she finally admits she needs her old grandfather?" Gordon was staring back at the straggling of trucks he could see beginning to break away. The raid was over, and the Legals had lost. Trench had tricked him.

Most of them belonged to Nick the Croop, who had apparently decided the Legals would win. Gordon and Izzy found the lead truck and led the way. They neared the bar where Sheila was working, and Bruce Gordon swore. She was running toward the center of the street, frantically trying to flag him down, and he barely managed to swerve around her. "Damned fool!" he muttered.

It was a period of complete fog to him, but it wasn't until his motley army reached the dome, straggling up in trucks and on foot, that he snapped into focus again. There was no sign of Sheila this time, and he didn't look for her. His whole mind was concentrated down to a single point: Get the dome! This time, there was no scattering of Municipals and Legals.