that
no matter what they try against us they're bound to fail."

"Nice trick," he said sourly.

"Very nice," Donegan said. "And what's more, it works. Nobody except
an out-and-out psychotic commits a crime when he hasn't got a hope of
success. And these people aren't psychotics; most criminals aren't.
Show them they can't get away with a thing--show them we're
infallible, all-knowing, all-powerful supermen--and they'll be scared
off trying anything."

"But killing Fredericks would do that just as well--" he began.

Donegan shook his head. "Now, hold on," he said. "You're getting all
worked up about this. It's your first time with this stakeout
business, that's all. But you can't kill him. You can't kill except
when really necessary. You know that."

"All right. But if he's going to kill me--"

"That doesn't make it necessary, not this time," Donegan said. "This
vengeance syndrome doesn't last forever, you know. Block it, and
you're through with it. And think how much more effective it is,
letting Fredericks go back alive to tell the tale."

"Think how much more effective it would be," he said, "if Fredericks
managed to get me."

"He won't," Donegan said.

"But without weapons--"

"No Psi Operative carries weapons," Donegan said. "We don't need them.
We're supermen ... remember?"

He twisted his face with a smile. "Easy for you to talk about it," he
said. "But I'm going to have to go out and face it--"

"We've all faced it," Donegan said. "When I was an Operative I went
through it, too. It's part of the job."

"But--"

"And I'm not going to tell you how to do the job," Donegan went on
firmly. "Either you know that by now, or you don't belong here."

He got up to leave, slowly. "It's a fine way to find out," he said
mournfully.

Donegan rose, too. "Good luck," he said. And meant it, too.

That was the chief for you, he thought. Send you out into God knows
what with no weapons, no instructions, lots of help planted for the
man who wanted to kill you--and then wish you good luck at the end of
it.

Sometimes he wondered why he didn't go in for some nice, peaceful job
of work--like rocket testing, for instance.

* * * * *

Fredericks, downstairs, was deciding to do things the subtle way. The
man upstairs--Jones, Brady or whatever his name was--deserved what he
was going to get. Psi powers were all very well, but there were
defenses against them. Briefly he thought of