There was another explosion as a grenade smashed the elevator doors and another as the cables were wrecked. In less than two minutes the hall was sealed up, with no exit unguarded. Two large men rushed Ben with angry shouts; he waited coolly until they were close enough, then triggered the tangle-gun, aiming at their feet. The egg-shaped gray pellet smashed on the floor beneath them, sending up twisting black tendrils of tangle web that stopped them as though they had been poleaxed. Both tumbled to the floor, struggling against the powerful adhesive of the tangle web, bound tighter and tighter as its molecular structure tightened the more they fought to extricate themselves. Nobody ever died from an encounter with a tangle web, but anybody caught in one would be held for hours in its tenacious tendrils, able to breath but not much more, until the molecular activation gradually seeped away and allowed the victim to release himself.
For the first time, Ben had a moment to look around. He was in a hall such as he had never seen before. One of the walls was lined with crowded bookshelves; there were chairs and tables scattered around for lounging, and against the far wall was a big stone box set into the wall with a roaring fire of wood—precious wood!—burning inside. In another large room off to the right were handball courts and a basketball floor, and off to the left—Ben stopped and peered in amazement, hardly believing his eyes.
He was looking into another room, with a huge tank of water sunk into the floor. Even now people in skin-tight clothes were struggling to get out of the water and up onto the dry floor. At first Ben thought that the tank was occupied only by men. Suddenly, he realized that some were wearing tight rubber caps and decidedly were not men.
He shouted to his companions:
“Here we go, boys! Over here!”
A dozen Spacers were now in the hall, guarding the exits with tangle-guns. Half a dozen joined him at the entrance to the pool, and began roaring with laughter at the wet, dripping Earth people crowding against the wall. “All right,” Ben said sharply. “You men peel off to the right here. No funny business and nobody will be hurt.”
The men stood frozen, looking first at the girls huddled at the side of the pool, then at the advancing Spacers. “Come on, move!” Ben said. Reluctantly the men began to move.
Ben and two others crossed the room while the rest of the Spacers covered them from the doorway.
The girls crowded back against the wall. Some were sobbing; others just looked angry or indignant.
“Volunteers first,” Ben said.
Nobody budged. In the main hall a renewed clamor was arising, and Ben heard a rattle of gunfire from somewhere outside. “Come on, we can’t wait all night.” He motioned the first girl with his tangle-gun.
“You, now. Get moving.”
“Moving where?” the girl snapped angrily.
“Out of here,” Ben said. “You’re going for a ride.”
“You can’t do this,” the girl returned. “You can’t just walk in and kidnap—”
“Ma’am, you’d be surprised,” Ben said. “You can argue later. Right now you can either walk out or be carried out. Which is it to be?”
Furious, the girl stalked past him. Another followed as he motioned to her, and another. At the same moment three of the Earthmen rushed one of the guards. All three were stopped by tangle webs, and one, struggling helplessly, tumbled headfirst into the pool.
“Haul him out,” Ben shouted to the guard. “The idiot will drown. But the next one that interferes gets tossed in.”
By now almost a dozen girls had been taken into custody by waiting Spacers, and they started across the main hall toward the door. Now the Earthmen, goaded to ill judgment, tried to move in in a body; tangle-guns popped, and the men shouted and strained at the sticky webs. Ben’s gun recoiled in his hand as he placed a shell under the feet of an onrushing man; the attacker twisted to get free of the entangling strands and tumbled to the floor, roaring with anger and shaking his fist at Ben in helpless rage.
But Ben was busy helping his companions single out the girls who gave some outward appearance of spirit and fight. There was no way to guess from a casual glance what kind of mauki a girl might become, but experience had proven that the cringing ones would be more burden than blessing in the long days of reeducation and indoctrination that lay ahead of them. In a few moments the full quota of girls was filled except for one; Ben’s eye caught a small, attractive girl who had been edging through the group toward the far side of the room.
Ben pointed a finger at her. “You,” he said. “Come along.”
The girl’s bathing cap had come off, revealing a crop of sandy-colored hair. There were large freckles across her nose and cheeks, and a dangerous light in her blue eyes as she stopped and turned toward Ben.
“You don’t want me,” she said. “I’m pretty ugly.” As if to demonstrate her undesirability, she looked cross-eyed and stuck her tongue out at him in a horrible grimace.
Ben grinned. “You’ll do,” he said. “Come on, hop!”
“But I like it here.” The girl was waving her hands frantically, as if trying to signal. Ben thought for a moment he glimpsed a light-haired youth flip his hand in an answering signal.
The hubbub outside was increasing. One of the guards at the door shouted at Ben. “Let’s go, boy.
We’ve got a goon squad coming up on us outside.”
“All right,” Ben said to the sandy-haired girl. “Move on, or I’ll carry you.” The girl gave him a long, angry look and, then started past him toward the door. As she came near she jumped at him, quick as a cat, brushing his tangle-gun aside with one hand and hitting him full in the chest with her knees. Ben crashed to the floor, the girl still on his chest, kicking with one foot at the hand that held the tangle-gun. Fighting off nails and teeth, Ben twisted his body out from under the girl, jerking her ankle and toppling her over on her back. She kicked him in the shin, and jumped to her feet again with a cry, once more rushing him. But this time he was ready. He stepped aside swiftly, shooting out his leg to trip her. Seconds later a tangle-gun charge popped on the floor, and the girl was busy trying to fight off the twisting adhesive strands that wrapped around her arms and legs. Without ceremony Ben took one arm and the opposite leg, hoisted her to his shoulders like a sack of meal, and headed for the door at a dead run.
In the main hall there was a confusion of noise and moving figures, and out on the promenade there was gunfire. Some of the searchlights had already gone out on the waiting ships, and Ben found himself tripping over people in the dim light. Then a giant flare burst outside the recreation hall, and a dozen Earthmen, gathering their wits, started converging on him and his wriggling burden. He still gripped his tangle-gun, and cleared a path, but people were grabbing at his arms and legs as he twisted across the room. Two men blocked his way at the door; he headed straight for them, saw one of them dive for his legs, deftly side-stepped and shoved the man’s hulk into the path of the other as he burst out onto the promenade.
Once outside, he paused to make sense out of the confusion. A squad of Earth police had arrived and were trying to deploy themselves to prevent the Spacers from regaining their ships, but with the girls as hostages the raiders were safe from gunfire. A shout went up from the onlookers as Ben came out the door, and three uniformed men headed in his direction. Somebody shouted, “There he goes! Get him!” And then, “Hold it—he’s got a girl!”