the 'lock, sending vibrations through the grid flooring to be picked up by the Palladians. The jingle of metal—and the Kiddies loved metal insanely!

"Money!" roared MacCauley. And, "Money! In the 'lock! Copper—metal! Go get it!"

Kittrell vanished, washed into the airlock by an overflowing wave of Palladians. Hands fumbling desperately behind him for the control switch—where was it!—Mac cursed his stiff, ineffectual fingers and his inability to see behind his back. He touched a switch—no, not that one!—and another, jabbed at it. Motors hummed softly, the scrambling noise died away as the inner door swung shut—so slowly!—and then for a second the only sound in the chamber was the harsh sobbing of Mac's breath as he slumped weakly against the chill metal wall.

Until that semi-silence was broken by the descending siren-scream of the outer door's opening, abruptly terminating in a whooosh as the last molecules of air tore into the vacuum without, dragging with irresistible force at the chunks of matter, living and dead, that tried to obstruct its passage....

"And that's the story." MacCauley turned away from the recorder. "Here's the notebook I found among Kittrell's things." He flipped a thin, black pad at the major. "I think you'll be able to break the code easily enough, as there are enough names known for you to work on. It seems to include his whole organization."

Major Copeland glanced at the cabalistic signs incuriously, then ticketed the book and slipped it into a pneumatic tube.

"What bothers me," he complained, "is why Kittrell didn't claw his way out of the 'lock. Sounds to me as though he had plenty of time."

Mac gestured inquiringly at his superior, received a nod, and with a sigh unclipped his Sam Browne. "Kittrell? Probably stumbled and slammed his head against a rivet." He stood up suddenly, savagely snubbed out a freshly lit cigarette. "Oh, hell! I'll tell you what I really think, Major—I don't believe Kittrell tried to get out of there. I don't think he cared, and I haven't forgotten what he said about dying that way."

"Could be," Copeland agreed. "And what did you say that stuff was that saved your life?"

Mac smiled. "Money, of a sort. You know where I was stationed last year?"

"Some place on Earth, wasn't it?"

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