 What would have happened if Brian didn’t escape with Crystal?
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] But, if they could not realize that the company's regime served the best interests of the planet, they would just have to suffer the consequences of their own ignorance. Anything involving executions had to be referred to the Interplanetary Council on Earth. This walk was part of a regular routine of physical exercise that kept his body hard and resilient in spite of long hours spent in the laboratory. He was making that walk in precisely seven minutes, four and four-fifths seconds. He swore some more and grabbed a towel, wrapping it inadequately around him; it didn't quite meet astern. Through the open door of his bedroom he could see his bed neatly turned down as it should be, but the outline under the counterpane and the luxuriant mass of platinum-blond hair on the pillow was certainly no part of his regular routine. Pete Brent's joking words flashed back to him. I don't see anything funny, unless it's you and that suggestive towel. Brian slowly acquired a complexion suitable for painting fire plugs. "I'm going to finish my bath and I'd suggest you go down to the laboratory and hold hands with Pete. He struggled out of the bath, wrapped his damp bathrobe clammily around him and marched to the door with a seething fury of righteous anger burning within him. "Wherethehell's who?" "Quit stallin', bud. "I'm not going anywhere to see anybody. Brian Hanson, Chief of Research for Venus Consolidated, as dignified as possible in a damp bathrobe, glared out through the bars at a slightly bewildered Pete Brent. If sending that damn blonde to my apartment and getting me arrested is your idea of a joke—" "But, my gosh, I didn't send anybody, chief. Pete lowered his voice to an appreciative whisper, "Gosh, chief, I didn't know you had it in you. All I want is to get out of here—" "Gotcha, chief," Brent whispered understandingly. For the nineteenth time Brian Hanson strode to the door of his cell and rattled the bars. "Listen here, guard, you've got to take a message to McHague. You can't hold me here indefinitely." I don't care if you are—" Brian's eyes almost popped out as he saw a gloved hand reach around the guard's neck and jam a rag over his nose and mouth. Another guard was caught and silenced as he came around the end of the corridor.
 The police would have thought Brian was working with the rebels.
 Brian would have given Pete extra work to punish him for the prank.  Brian would have turned in Crystal and the rebels.  The police would have thought Brian was working with the rebels.  Brian would have continued his vitamin research.