Barby. I won't throw him in jail this time. I
might need him."

"Is that what you're here for?" she asked.

"I need you all," Steve said. He motioned to chairs. "Let's sit down.
Can Mrs. Brant join us?"

Hartson Brant went to get her while the young people started to deluge
Steve with questions. He held up a hand in protest. "Wait until the
whole family's here, please."

In a moment Mrs. Brant had joined them and greeted Steve cordially.
Then the young agent got serious.

"I was only partly joking when I said I wanted to take over Spindrift.
I really do, in a way. Here's why. We've had a team of scientists
working on a project that's of the greatest importance to national
defense. There were four in the team, all topnotchers. Hartson, I'm
sure you'll know some, if not all of them, by reputation."

Steve removed the ammunition clip from his submachine gun and sighted
through the barrel, then let the bolt ram home with a sharp click. "It
was my job to guard the project. As you know, I had to go to the
Virgin Islands, but I left one of my best men in charge, and he did
his job thoroughly. I'm satisfied about that. No unknown person has
been near the project office. And no unknowns have been in close
contact with any of the team. Yet, two of them are in the hospital."

"Sick or wounded?" Scotty asked.

"Neither, really. We don't know what's wrong. Their minds suddenly
ceased to function."

Hartson Brant leaned forward. "You mean they're unconscious?"

Steve shook his head. "Not in the usual sense. It's as though all
their thoughts and memories had suddenly been scrambled. Did you ever
see a teletype machine in operation, particularly one that suddenly
went haywire?"

Rick had. "The news machine did that over at the Whiteside _Morning
Record_. It was typing out clear copy, then suddenly there wasn't
anything but gibberish."

"That's it," Steve agreed. "And it's the best analogy I can think of
for what happened to the two scientists. When a teletype goes haywire,
one moment everything is clear and perfect, the next everything is
scrambled. All the letters are there but they no longer make words.
The scientists talk words--common, everyday words--but the words don't
make thoughts or sentences. Just sounds."

"How awful," Mrs. Brant murmured. Barby looked horrified.

Rick searched his memory for anything similar he had ever read about
or heard of, but there was nothing. From the expressions on their
faces, hi