d involve Kitty as well. He had to keep Kitty
out of this, which meant that he must stay clear of her until he was
safe.

"It's nothing," he said hastily. "I'll call you later, Kitty. I've
another appointment now that can't wait."

She put out a hesitant hand. "Philip...."

He wanted desperately to tell her the whole improbable story, to reveal
his fears and get the reassurance she was able to give him.

But he couldn't risk involving Kitty in any danger.

"It's nothing," he repeated. He went down the lift quickly because he
knew that if he delayed to comfort her, he would never have the courage
to go at all.

His only clear thought, as he shouldered his way into the late-afternoon
throng outside CA, had been to escape from Kitty and from the too-vivid
memory of Janice Wynn. Now that he must choose a course, he was brought
up short by the fact that, so long as he was tailed by Jaffers' men,
there was literally no place for him to go.

He could not go to his apartment because of Jaffers' surveillance. He
had no intention of meeting Janice Wynn at his Catskill cabin at 21:00.
Her obvious knowledge--and, therefore, _theirs_--of the location ruled
that out as a refuge.

He looked about for the inevitable man in gray and found him following
at his careful hundred feet. The crowd caught and bore them both along
like chips in a millrace, keeping the interval constant.

Alcorn let himself be carried along, feeling the slow release of tension
that spread outward from him through the throng. The physical pressure
was also eased. People slowed their dogged pace and smiled at utter
strangers.

He had wondered often how the people affected by his circle of calm
accounted for their sudden change of mood. He had dreamed that one day
he might walk in such a crowd and enter another island of serenity like
his own and thus find another human being gifted like himself. Someone
with his own needs and longings, who would not melt into ready
complaisance when he drew near, but who would speak honestly and
clearly, who would understand how he felt and why.

Ironically, when that moment had come in O'Donnell's office, it hadn't
brought him the fulfillment he had expected. It had left, instead, a
panic beyond belief.

Why? What was he afraid of?

There was nothing evil or dangerous in his own gift--why should he fear
another possessing the same wild talent? Damn it, he thought, what sort
of fate could be so terrible that its fo