had to wait until 2005 and was the result
of two unconnected circumstances. The first was Physlab Nine's secretive
genius, Moglaut, evolving another piece of equipment, a disarmer, which,
subsequent to its first use, saved countless cops' lives. The second was
the discovery in the Valley of Kings, of Amenhotep III's own personal
official Uraeus. Positively identified beyond the shadow of doubt.

Jason, playing the hunch he'd built up about Lonnie, rushed a man, armed
with the brand new disarmer, instantly to the scene.

The next morning, Amenhotep's Uraeus was gone and the corpse of Jason's
man was found--part of it. The right hand, arm, shoulder, and most of
the head were missing; burned away. And of the disarmer, only a fused
hunk of mixed metals and silver helix remained.

And the analyzer reported zero data.

Lab Nine's taciturn and exasperating Moglaut failed to derive an
explanation for either circumstance.

"I won't shut up," Jason said, standing on the carpet in front of his
superior. "He did it. I don't know how, but he did."

Another spasm of frustration shook him and he slammed his fist down on
the sacred desk. "I've known Lonnie all my life. I know he doesn't know
phfut about anything scientific, and yet he makes a horse's--"

"Captain Jason, I insist that you stop referring to--"

"Makes a--" Jason raised his voice, "horse's--"

"CAPTAIN JASON!"

Jason subsided.

"Captain, Annex has been most forbearing all these years. We've
overlooked your incomprehensible phobia--this--this confoundedly
unfounded impossible bias against such an irreproachable philanthropist
as Launcelot Raichi--because of the sterling quality of your ... ah ...
other work. However--"

On the desk, the Commissioner's fingers took up a measured tattoo.
"--should this fixed idea begin to encroach on--uh--uh--"

"All right ... Sir." Sullenly, Jason submitted. "I understand."

With a self-congratulatory smirk up at the ceiling that separated them
from Executive Level, the bland face of the Commissioner smoothed out.
"All right, Captain, as long as we understand each other ..."

Sourly, Jason got himself back to his own office. Drumming his own
fingers on his own desk and glaring at his own desk sergeant, he purged
his soul.

"--damned equipment would only work, I'd gather him in! They couldn't
stop me, then! But--" Jason choked. When he could speak again, "He's
never studied a lick in his life, I tell you! Yet he makes a h