Lazarite and went to the control-plate and began to work with it until
he had Shearing safely on the floor of the stage. Then he cut the power
and ran down another flight of steps to the bottom level. His mind was
able to range free now. He could not sense anyone close at hand.
Bellaver seemed to have sent underlings elsewhere in the _Happy Dream_
while he worked on Shearing. It was nothing for which a man would seek
witnesses. Hyrst vaulted the rail onto the stage and dragged Shearing
away from the magnet. He felt uncomfortable in all that glare of light.
He hauled and grunted until he got Shearing over the rail into the dark.
Then he wrestled the harness off him. Shearing sobbed feebly, and
retched.

"Can you stand up?" said Hyrst. "Hey. Shearing." He shook him, hard.
"Stand up."

He got Shearing up, a one-hundred-and-ninety pound rag doll draped over
his shoulders. He began to walk him out of the theater. "Are you still
there?" he asked of the woman.

The answer came into his mind swiftly. "Yes. I'll help you watch. Do you
see where the skiff is?"

It was in a pod under the belly of the _Happy Dream_. "I see it," said
Hyrst.

"Take that. Bellaver's yacht is faster, but you'd need the crew. The
skiff you can handle yourself."

* * * * *

He walked Shearing into a fore-and-aft corridor. Shearing's feet were
beginning to move of their own accord, and he had stopped retching. But
his eyes were still blank and he staggered aimlessly. Hyrst's nerves
were prickling with a mixture of fierce satisfaction and fear. Far above
in the lush suite he felt Vernon stir and come to. There were men
somewhere closer, quite close. He forced his mind to see. Two of the
very accurate men who had been with Vernon were playing cards with two
others who were apparently stewards. The third one lolled in a chair,
smoking. All five were in a lounge just around the corner of a
transverse corridor. The door was open.

Without realizing that he had done so, Hyrst took control of Shearing's
mind. "Steady, now. We're going past that corner without a sound. You
hear me, Shearing? Not a sound."

Shearing's eyes flickered vaguely. He frowned, and his step became
steadier. The floor of the corridor was covered in a tough resilient
plastic that deadened footsteps. They passed the corner. The men
continued to play cards. Hyrst sent up a derisive insult to Vernon and
told Shearing to hurry a little. The stair lea