I put out a groping hand to push her
away.

"Jason," she implored, "don't--go away from me like that! Talk to me,
tell me!"

But her words reached me through emptiness.... I knew important things
might hang on tomorrow's meeting, Jason alone could come through that
meeting, where the Terrans for some reason put him through this hell and
damnation and torture ... oh, yes ... the trailmen's fever.

Jay Allison pushed the girl's hand away and scowled savagely, trying to
collect his thoughts and concentrate them on what he must say and do, to
convince the trailmen of their duty toward the rest of the planet. As if
they--not even human--could have a sense of duty!

With an unaccustomed surge of emotion, he wished he were with the
others. Kendricks, now. Jay knew, precisely, why Forth had sent the big,
reliable spaceman at his back. And that handsome, arrogant
Darkovan--where was he? Jay looked at the girl in puzzlement; he didn't
want to reveal that he wasn't quite sure of what he was saying or doing,
or that he had little memory of what Jason had been up to.

He started to ask, "Where did the Hastur kid go?" before a vagrant
logical thought told him that such an important guest would have been
lodged with the Old One. Then a wave of despair hit him; Jay realized he
did not even speak the trailmen's language, that it had slipped from his
thoughts completely.

[Illustration: She felt a touch of panic. He was leaving her again.]

"You--" he fished desperately for the girl's name, "Kyla. You don't
speak the trailmen's language, do you?"

"A few words. No more. Why?" She had withdrawn into a corner of the tiny
room--still not far from him--and he wondered remotely what his damned
alter ego had been up to. With Jason, there was no telling. Jay raised
his eyes with a melancholy smile.

"Sit down, child. You needn't be frightened."

"I'm--I'm trying to understand--" the girl touched him again, evidently
trying to conquer her terror. "It isn't easy--when you turn into someone
else under my eyes--" Jay saw that she was shaking in real fright.

He said wearily, "I'm not going to--to turn into a bat and fly away. I'm
just a poor devil of a doctor who's gotten himself into one unholy
mess." There was no reason, he was thinking, to take out his own misery
and despair by shouting at this poor kid. God knew what she'd been
through with his irresponsible other self--Forth had admitted that that
damned "Jason" personality was a