des of incomprehensibly
complex machines--most of them were doing nothing, apparently; but such
beams would have to be invisibly, microscopically fine. But a bare
brain, in such a hot environment as this....

He looked down at his gauges. Both read zero.

"Fields of force, Master," Laro said.

"But, damn it, this suit itself would re-radiate ..."

"The suit is self-decontaminating, Master."

Hilton was appalled. "With such stuff as that, and the plastic shield
besides, why all the depth and all that solid lead?"

"The Masters' orders, Master. Machines can, and occasionally do, fail.
So might, conceivably, the plastic."

"And that structure over there contains the original brain, from which
all the copies are made."

"Yes, Master. We call it the 'Guide'."

"And you can't touch the Guide. Not even if it means total destruction,
none of you can touch it."

"That is the case, Master."

"Okay. Back to the car and back to the _Perseus_."

At the car Hilton took off the suit and hung the thought-screen
generator around his neck; and in the car, for twenty five solid
minutes, he sat still and thought.

His bluff had worked, up to a point. A good, far point, but not quite
far enough. Laro had stopped that "as you already know" stuff. He was
eager to go as far in cooperation as he possibly could ... but he
_couldn't_ go far enough but there _had_ to be a way....

Hilton considered way after way. Way after unworkable, useless way.
Until finally he worked out one that might--just possibly might--work.

"Laro, I know that you derive pleasure and satisfaction from serving
me--in doing what I ought to be doing myself. But has it ever occurred
to you that that's a hell of a way to treat a first-class, highly
capable brain? To waste it on second-hand, copycat, carbon-copy stuff?"

"Why, no, Master, it never did. Besides, anything else would be
forbidden ... or would it?"

"Stop somewhere. Park this heap. We're too close to the ship; and
besides, I want your full, undivided, concentrated attention. No, I
don't think originality was expressly forbidden. It would have been, of
course, if the Masters had thought of it, but neither they nor you ever
even considered the possibility of such a thing. Right?"

"It may be.... Yes, Master, you are right."

"Okay." Hilton took off his necklace, the better to drive home the
intensity and sincerity of his thought. "Now, suppose that you are
not my slave and simple automatic re