The sounds of galloping Quinlans drifted down the long antiseptic corridor. My thirty seconds were almost up. I turned, drew my trank gun, and shot the lead Quinlan just as he came into range. He went down with a yelp and skidded to a stop on his face. The others hit the brakes and backpedaled frantically. Then two of them went up on hind legs and pulled guns of their own.