"Ay de mi! Save my daughter! Save..."

There was a rattling. The general's mouth dropped open, and his eyes stared.

Saavedra covered the face with a sheet. He was weeping. "He was my friend!" he sobbed. "He was a brave man!"

Quiroga had already picked up a phone and was trying to get through to a priest But Broward pressed the b.u.t.ton that turned the phone off.

"We'll go to the Pope's house," he said. "We can send a priest from there to Mier. There's no time to waste."

"We will be under surveillance," said Saavedra. "The moment we enter, Intelligence will know. It won't be difficult for them to identify Pablo and me. And a little checking will tell them that we left the port with a third man whose face was bandaged. That will be enough for them to investigate. They won't lose any time."

"What do you suggest? We haven't any time to lose, either."

The two Argentineans looked helpless. Broward said, "I'm going there. Don't stop me. You know what will happen if you do."

Saavedra took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. He said, "Very well. We'll go with you. G.o.d help us, we can do nothing else."

On the way, Saavedra said, "So far, we've been lucky not to have been stopped by roving Angelos. These Angels are Howards' personal army and secret service. They have many privileges, which they abuse. One of them is the right to stop and question any citizen whom they think suspicious. They do it quite frequently and use the opportunity to get bribes."

They drove through various corridors of varying sizes. At the intersections of the tunnels were signs,suspended from the ceilings, that indicated the names and east-west or north-south locations and the levels. Saavedra was familiar' with this section, so he did not have to use the maps in the jeep. But he confessed that there were many parts of Osorno where he would have been lost without their help.

"When this city-if this city-expands through the rest of the cavern complex, plus the additional hollowing-out to be done, it will have a population of two million. But another complex, even larger than this one, has been discovered only a hundred kilometers away. When the two are linked up and colonized, the population will be larger than that of Buenos Aires was."

The jeep halted before a line of elevator doors. The colonel pressed a b.u.t.ton on the panel of the jeep, and the door directly in front of them slid open. The jeep entered; Quiroga got out to press the down b.u.t.ton.

"If Osorno grows to be a great city," Broward said, "it will be haunted by the thought that some day another bomb, such as the one now above Mars, may be dropped on this planet. If we succeed here, I intend to destroy the bomb that now exists. But the people who made it, they still exist, and they can make another. If they survive under the sea and some day emerge, they will be a threat to all of humanity."

The elevator stopped, the door opened, the jeep drove out onto the third level.

"Destroy the bomb by dropping it on Earth," said Saavedra. "That way, you will kill two birds with one stone.

The bomb and knowledge of how to make it will cease to exist in a single explosion."

"I cannot do it. How can I know for sure that another bomb will be made or that it'll be used? Besides, I am sure that there are other places under the ground and under the seas of Earth where others, innocents, you might say, live. They, too, would die."

"Man has always lived under some form of threat of annihilation," Quiroga said. "In the ancient times, it was the wrath of G.o.d or plague and then it was the atomic bombs; somehow, he has managed to survive."

"His luck may run out at any minute," Broward replied. "Oh, oh, who are they?"

They had left the elevator chamber and driven through a long tunnel into a tremendous plaza. Now, a jeep with three men was driving towards them, and its siren was whooping. Two of the three men were armed with submachine guns.

"The Angels," said Colonel Saavedra. "You will notice that traffic is very small here. It always is. That neo-Gothic building over there is Howards' residence. Anybody who enters this plaza is likely to be challenged. He takes no chances."

"If they try to take us into custody, shoot," Broward said. He nodded at another building across the plaza from Hows' mansion. By the colonel's description, he knew it was the Pope's house. "We'll make a run for it"

"Then what?" muttered Quiroga.

Broward stopped the jeep. The Angels' vehicle turned broadside and halted just before the jeep. Its occupants, dressed in white uniforms with much gold braiding, got out. One of the gunners walked around behind the jeep to cover it. The officer approached from the driver's, Broward's, side. The second gunner remained by his car.

The officer, a short very muscular man with a hard face, said, "Let's see your identification and travel permits."

"We just got here from Deimos," the colonel replied. "I was told nothing about local travel permits."

"Your identification," said the officer harshly.

Broward reached into his coveralls, saying, "I have the permit, Captain. I did not think it necessary to burden the colonel with knowledge of it."

His words did not make logic, but he was talking to divert the officer's mind. The captain reached out his hand to take the papers, and Broward pressed the little k.n.o.b on the matchbox-sized object in his hand. The captain, his heart muscles spasming, fell to the ground.

Broward whirled around and caught the other two with a sweep of the beam. The man by the jeep fell at once.

The other, behind the jeep, shifted the tommy to his shoulder to fire, and then he fell face forward on his weapon.

"Knock them out," ordered Broward loudly. "Quickly. They'll recover almost at once."

He jumped from the jeep and brought the edge of his palm against the thick neck of the captain, who was just rising from the ground. As if it had been planned, the colonel took the man nearest him, the Angel by the official vehicle. He drove his knee upwards to catch the rising man under the chin with it. The Angel fell backwards and struck the back of his neck against the wheel. Quiroga kicked the gunner behind the jeep in the belly.

Broward looked across the plaza towards Howards' building. The plaza was empty, and n.o.body was coming out of the mansion. It seemed incredible that n.o.body had noticed the fight. But they had not.

Under Broward's direction, the Angels were dragged into the back of the jeep. "Quiroga, drive their jeep into the corridor. I'll drive ours there."

In the corridor, out of sight of anybody in the plaza, Broward began to undress the captain. The others followed suit with each of the Angels.

"What do we do with them?" said the colonel. He glanced toward the tunnel leading to the elevator chamber.

"Why didn't I think of that?" moaned Broward. "Let's get out of here and into an elevator. We'll do the uniform exchange there."

They drove the jeeps into the tunnel and thence into the room beyond and then dragged the unconscious men into the elevator at the extreme left end of the room. Quiroga started it downward, then resumed taking his man's clothes off. He paused several times to reverse the elevator's direction.

"That little weapon of yours is a wonderful device," the colonel said. He was breathing hard. "We don't haveanything like that, that I know of."

"It's comparatively new," Broward replied. "But it's only effective at short range, and the attack only lasts as long as the beam is directed against the victim. Moreover, it takes a lot of energy. I have about one charge left in it-I think."

They completed the switch. One Angel groaned, and Broward kicked him hard in the head. "Stop it at the level where we got on," he said to the lieutenant. "We've got to get something to hold the door open while we send this elevator back up again. Well drop these men down the shaft."

The cage stopped; the door slid open. With the tommy held ready, Broward stepped out into the room. He saw five Angels getting out of a jeep; the foremost was walking towards another elevator entrance.

He could not take a chance that they would stop him to talk. He sprayed the group with one burst.

The chamber rang with noise as loud as doom. Then, there was silence.

"Now you've done it," the colonel said. "They'll come running from everywhere."

"Maybe the noise didn't reach them," Broward said. "Anyway, I had no choice. Come on. Let's get rid of them."

He removed his knife from its sheath beneath his coveralls and stabbed each of the three original Angels in the solar plexus. Then, reopening the elevator door, he shoved one of the bodies in to keep the door from closing while the cage ascended. Quiroga shoved the door open even further, and Broward and Saavedra placed another body beside the first to enlarge the opening. Fortunately, the mechanism had no safety provision which kept the cage from moving while the door was not shut. There were no cables attached to the cages, which operated off self-contained gravitypaks.

The bodies, shoved through the opening over the corpses used as doorstops, fell unimpeded to the bottom.

When these had been disposed of Broward and Saavedra used jackets stripped from the dead men to wipe away as much of the blood as possible. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do about the scratches on the doors or the chips in the stone walls left by ricocheting bullets. Quiroga placed the weapons of the fallen on the floor of their jeep.

Broward drove that vehicle, and the other two were driven by the colonel and the lieutenant They went back down the corridor and then swung to the side of the plaza on which was the Pope's residence. Broward was relieved that there were no people to be seen. But he knew that they could be easily viewed from within the buildings. As if he had official business, he steered the jeep to the pontiff's building and then around to its rear.

He had to knock hard about twenty times before the back door swung in. A young man in black robes and with an expressionless face confronted him.

"We must see His Holiness at once," the colonel said.

"You may wait inside for him," the priest replied firmly. "The Holy Father is holding a private conference now.

He is not to be disturbed."

Broward considered telling him that they were not Angels. But there was the possibility that Howards had succeeded in planting a spy in the Pope's household. Perhaps, it might be this man.

"El Macho sent us," he said. "We have orders to see His Holiness at once."

The priest did not answer; he seemed not to know what to do. Or else he was shocked by the fear that Howards had finally decided to move against the Church.

Broward shouldered him aside, and Saavedra and Quiroga followed.

The priest grabbed hold of Broward's arm and said, "You must not do this. It would be a mortal sin; your souls will be in jeopardy."

No spy would act thus. Broward said, "We are not what we seem. We are not Angels, despite these uniforms.

Now, do you understand? We must see His Holiness at once. The fate of all life on Mars depends on it."

"Follow me."

They were led through several small rooms, Spartanly furnished, to a hall. At the end of the hall, near the front of the building, was a staircase. Like most on Mars, the steps were much further apart than those of Earth. A man used to handling himself under the lesser gravity could spring easily from one to the next. In fact, if you were in a hurry, you could make it in one jump to the top of the stairs.

The three went up the stairs and then down the hall to its end. Here, the priest knocked on a door. A voice from within said, "What is it?"

"An emergency, Your Holiness," the priest said quietly. "There are three men here who say that the fate of Mars depends upon your seeing them at once."

There was a muttered exclamation. The door opened. The Pope was a tall thin man of about fifty, dressed in ordinary clerical garb. He had a face that would have been handsome if it had not been so haggard. He was very dark and looked like an Indian despite the fact that his patronymic came from a Prussian baron who had emigrated to Argentina in the early twentieth century.

Behind him stood a woman whose face was veiled. She moved forward, and then knelt and kissed his hand.

He gave her a blessing; she rose and silently walked out of the room and down the hall. The three looked curiously after her. She had a beautiful figure.

On seeing their uniforms, the Pope's eyes had widened. Now, he said, "Three Angels, heh? I hope that this is a good

omen."

He stepped aside. Broward entered first. The other two kissed the pontiff's hand. He said to Broward, "If you are not an Angel nor an angel, then you are not Howards' man. Nor are you a Catholic. What, then, are you?"

He closed the door, signing to the young priest that he was dismissed. Broward said, "Your Holiness, it isunfortunate that it will take a little time to explain. But I ask that you listen to us to the end."

The Pope nodded for him to go ahead. He paced back and forth in the little room while Quiroga and Saavedra stood by the door. Now and then, he asked a question to clear up a point. On hearing that Broward was a Soviet, he reacted only by raising his eyebrows. When Broward had trouble phrasing a particular statement, the pontiff said, "You may speak in English if you wish. I am fluent in all the major languages."

At the end of twenty minutes, Broward had given his history.

"You would not have come here if you could have gotten help elsewhere," the Pope said. "Now, what do you expect, or hope, that I will do?"

"Your Holiness," Broward replied, "if there were any other way to bring about peace, I would take it. But violence is the only way. And..."

"Why did you come down here in person?" said the Pope. "Why did you not send these two men down with the message that you would launch the bomb if Mars did not surrender?"

He stopped, then said, "Forgive my stupidity. Howards would not believe you, of course; he would have sent ships after you, and you would have been forced to launch that devil's device. Only by overthrowing the present government could you save Mars."

"That is right," said Broward. "And Howards will not listen to anything but a bullet now."

"The servant should obey his master, so St. Paul said. And our Lord said to render unto Caesar what is Caesar's."

"Do you mean to tell me that you obey your political master even if he is evil and is intent on grinding your Church to bits under his heel? Did not Christ whip the money-changers out of the temple? And haven't there been bishops and priests in the Church's history who went into battle at the sides of their secular lords and slew the heathen?"

"True," said the pontiff. "However..."

There was a knock on the door, and the young priest came in.

"Your Holiness, there are armed Angels coming out of Howards' house. They are coming across the plaza towards us. I fear..."

"It has happened later than I thought it would," the Pope said. "You must have been seen when you came around the house. Probably, those watching you thought you were here on business because of your uniforms, even if they had not been notified that Angels were to come here.

"But they also have very sensitive sound-receptors trained on this building. Nothing that is said goes unmonitored over there except for my room, which has been especially soundproofed. And I only got that concession because I threatened to cause trouble, just as I had to suspend confession until I got the confessional booths insulated. Howards had no compunctions about using spy-beams on those."

Broward rushed down the hallway to the window at the end. Halfway across the plaza, advancing slowly, were about twenty men. All were equipped with burpers or rifles except the officers, who wore side-arms. They were spread out in two lines in a crescent, the horns of which enclosed the area beyond both sides of the pontiffs residence.

Broward rolled the window into the slot in the wall, poked the muzzle of his tommy out, and began firing.

Within a few seconds, two other tommies also began firing; these were from rooms on both sides of the hall. Quiroga and Saavedra, without waiting for orders from him, had joined the fight.

The Angels in the center who had not been hit raked the front of the house with return fire from their burpers.

But Broward, after downing at least six at the first burst, had stepped back from the window. He saw men on the left horn of the crescent run towards the side of the buildings. Three reached safety, but two fell as he shot out of the side of the window.

He ran down the hall to the top of the stairway, paused to jump the length of the steps to the ground floor, but stopped when he heard a burper firing outside in the rear. He ran to the window at the rear of the hall, almost knocking the Pope down, and looked out cautiously.

The young priest was standing behind one of the jeeps and was holding a burper. Obviously, he had been hiding behind the vehicle. Broward decided that it was safe to put his head out of the window. Five bodies were sprawled on the ground along the base of the house.

The Pope, looking out past him, said, "So Father Ignacio took a hand in this without consulting me?"

"I'm sure he did it on impulse," replied Broward. "He didn't join me; he didn't know why I was here. He was only protecting you."

"As Peter drew his sword and sliced off the servant's ear," said Siricio II. "Well, I am not going to rebuke Ignacio or tell him to put up his weapon."

"You'll fight with us?"

"I'll fight in my way," replied the Pope. "I will not shed blood. But I will march with you. By the way, whatever you are going to do, you had better do it at once. I'm sure that Howards has called soldiers to come to his aid. There is a barracks in the next plaza. However, I doubt that more than a quarter of the soldiers will be able to respond. The rest are too sick."

Broward returned to the front window. Quiroga and Saavedra joined him. An Angel, his white uniform splotched with red, was feebly crawling away.