The door opened on a dark, peaceful street. One lonely moon was setting
beyond the rooftops. I set Miellyn on her feet, but she moaned and
crumpled against me. I put my shirtcloak around her bare shoulders.
Judging by the noises and yells, we'd gotten out just in time. No one
came out the exit behind us. Either the Spaceforce had plugged it or,
more likely, everyone else in the cellar had been too muddled by drugs
to know what was going on.
But it was only a few minutes, I knew, before Spaceforce would check the
whole building for concealed escape holes. Suddenly, and irrelevantly, I
found myself thinking of a day not too long ago, when I'd stood up in
front of a unit-in-training of Spaceforce, introduced to them as an
Intelligence expert on native towns, and solemnly warned them about
concealed exits and entrances. I wondered, for half a minute, if it
might not be simpler just to wait here and let them pick me up.
Then I hoisted Miellyn across my shoulders. She was heavier than she
looked, and after a minute, half conscious, she began to struggle and
moan.
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