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. Either way, it
was time I backed her up.
I heard more shots. With bitter certainty that nothing was left but to
avenge her, I made a long arm, got my stick, and turned.
No more fighting- Those last shots had been fired by Rabbi Ezra. (Why was I
surprised that a wheelchair cripple chose to go armed?) Hazel was shouting,
"Everybody get aboard! Move it!"
And we did. I was confused again, as an endless crowd of young people, male
and female and all of them redheaded, poured out of that vehicle and carried out
Hazel's orders. Two of them carried Reb Ezra inside while a third folded his
wheel-chair flat and handed it in to a fourth. Choy-Mu and Gretchen were hustled
in, followed by Father Schultz. Xia was shoved after them when she tried to
insist on handling me. Then two redheads, a man and a woman, carried me in; my
blood-stained pants were chucked after me. I clung to my cane.
I saw only a little of the vehicle. Its door opened into a four-place
pilot-and-passenger compartment of what might be a spaceplane. Or might not be;
the controls were strange and I was in no position to judge how it worked. I was
lugged between seats and shoved through a door behind them into a cargo space
and wound up on top of the Rabbi's folded wheel-chair.
Was I going to be treated as cargo? No, I lay there only briefly, then was
turned ninety degrees and passed through a larger door, turned another ninety
degrees and placed on a floor
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