Gangs of Antares

Chapter twelve

Chapter twelveThere was absolutely no question of protocol here. Duven had acted. I must respond immediately.

Running back I shook Logan’s arm. He was staring about vacantly, trembling in expectation of the next shock.

“A rope!”

He looked at me, and he didn’t see me.

What of curtains there might be in this windowless space were burning, their pullcords flaring with them.

San Paynor in his firm soft voice, said: “The serving hatch from the kitchens, Drajak.”

I grasped his meaning at once and as he pointed I hared off to the undamaged wall. A small counter fronted a wooden hatch. I shoved this open viciously and, yes, there was the food lift with its rope. Wasting no time I hauled the rope in, flinging the coils back onto the floor. All the time I expected the next quake to bring every