ly begged me not to mention it, but I must. When it
organized your team it had no idea of what it was really going to
do...."

"Let's talk the same language, shall we? Say 'he' and 'she.' Not 'it.'"

"She thought she was setting up the peyondix, the same as all of us
Omans have. But after she formed in your mind the peyondix matrix, your
mind went on of itself to form a something else; a thing we can not
understand. That was why she was so extremely ... I think 'frightened'
might be your term."

"I knew something was biting her. Why?"

"Because it very nearly killed you. You perhaps have not considered the
effect upon us all if any Oman, however unintentionally, should kill a
Master?"

"No, I hadn't ... I see. So she won't play with fire any more, and none
of the rest of you can?"

"Yes, sir. Nothing could force her to. If she could be so coerced we
would destroy her brain before she could act. That brain, as you know,
is imperfect, or she could not have done what she did. It should have
been destroyed long since."

"Don't _ever_ act on that assumption, Larry." Hilton thought for
minutes. "Simple peyondix, such as yours, is not enough to read the
Masters' records. If I'd had three brain cells working I'd've tried them
then. I wonder if I _could_ read them?"

"You have all the old Masters' powers and more. But you must not
assemble them again, sir. It would mean death."

"But I've got to _know_.... I've _got_ to know! Anyway, a thousandth of
a second would be enough. I don't think that'd hurt me very much."

* * * * *

He concentrated--read a few feet of top-secret braided wire--and came
back to consciousness in the sickbay of the _Perseus_, with two doctors
working on him; Hastings, the top Navy medico, and Flandres, the
surgeon.

"What the hell happened to you?" Flandres demanded. "Were you trying to
kill yourself?"

"And if so, how?" Hastings wanted to know.

"No, I was trying not to," Hilton said, weakly, "and I guess I didn't
much more than succeed."

"That was just about the closest shave I ever saw a man come through.
Whatever it was, don't do it again."

"I won't," he promised, feelingly.

When they let him out of the hospital, four days later, he called in
Larry and Tuly.

"The next time would be the last time. So there won't be any," he told
them. "But just how sure are you that some other of our boys or girls
may not have just enough of whatever it takes