it."

The dark man shook his head at Shearing. "This wasn't nice of you. You
knew we had a particular interest in Mr. Hyrst." He turned to Hyrst and
smiled. His teeth were small and very neat and white. "Did you know that
Shearing has been keeping a shield over your mind as well as his? A
little too large a task for him. When you jarred his mind open for an
instant, it was all we needed to lead us here."

He went on. "Mr. Hyrst, my name is Vernon. We'd like you to come with
us."

Vernon nodded to the three accurate men, and the whole little group
began to walk in the direction of the spaceport. Shearing seemed almost
asleep on his feet now. It was as though he had expended all his energy
on a task, and failed at it, and was now quiescent, like an empty well
waiting to fill again.

"Where are we going?" Hyrst asked, and Vernon answered:

"To see a gentleman you've never heard of, in a place you've never
been." He added, with easy friendliness, "Don't worry, Mr. Hyrst, we
have nothing against _you_. You're new to this--ah--state of life. You
shouldn't be asked to make decisions or agreements until you know both
sides of the question. Mr. Shearing was taking an unfair advantage."

Remembering the dark hard purpose Shearing had let him see in his mind,
Hyrst could not readily dispute that. But he put out an exploring probe
in the direction of Vernon's mind.

It was shut tight.

They walked on, toward the spaceport gates.

CHAPTER III

All space was before him, hung with the many-colored lights of the
stars, intensely brilliant in the black nothing. It was incredibly
splendid, but it was too much like what he had looked at with his cold
unseeing eyes for fifty years. He looked down--down being relative to
where he was standing in the blister-window--and saw the whole Belt
swarming by under him like a drift of fireflies. He quivered inwardly
with a chill vertigo, and turned away.

Vernon was talking aloud. He had been talking for some time. He was
stretched out on a soft, deep lounge, smoking, pretending to sip from a
tall glass.

"So you see, Mr. Hyrst, we can help you a lot. It's not easy for a
Lazarite--for one of us--to get a job. I know. People have a--well, a
_feeling_. Now Mr. Bellaver--"

"Where is Shearing?" asked Hyrst. He came and stood in the center of the
room, with the soft lights in his eyes and the soft carpets under his
feet. His mind reached out, uneasy and restless, but it seemed t