ace Jason.

"I see you are awake. It was a mild drug. I did not enjoy using it,
but it was the safest way."

When he talked his jaw opened and shut with the seriousness of a bank
vault. The deep-set and cold blue eyes stared fixedly from under dark
brows. Jason stared back just as steadily and chuckled.

"I suppose you didn't enjoy using the maser-projector either, nor
threatening to cook holes in me. For a cop you seem to be very tender
hearted."

"I did it only to save your friends. I did not want them to get hurt."

"Get hurt!" Jason roared with laughter. "Space-cop, don't you have any
idea what Pyrrans are like, or what kind of a setup you were walking
into? Don't you realize that I saved your life--though I really don't
know why. Call me a natural humanitarian. You may have a swollen head
and a ready trigger-finger, but you were so far out of your class that
you just weren't in the race. They could have blasted you into pieces,
then shot the pieces into smaller pieces, while you were still
thinking about pulling the trigger. You should just thank me for being
your savior."

"So you are a liar as well as a thief," Jason's captor answered with
no change of expression. "You attempt to play on my sympathies to gain
your freedom. Why should I believe this story? I came to arrest you,
threatening to kill you if you didn't submit, and your friends were
there ready to defend you. Why should you attempt to save my life? It
does not make sense." He turned back to the controls to make an
adjustment.

[Illustration: Mikah Samon]

It didn't make sense, Jason agreed completely. Why had he saved this
oaf who meant nothing to him? It was not an easy question to answer,
though it had seemed so right at the time. If only Meta hadn't said
that they would take care of him; he knew they could and was tired of
it. He could take care of himself: he felt the anger rising again at
the remembered words. Was that the only reason he had let this cop
capture him? To show the Pyrrans that he was able to control his own
destiny? Was the human ego such a pitiable thing that it had to keep
reassuring itself of its own independence or lie down on its back and
curl up its toes?

Apparently it was. At least his was. The years had taught him a
certain insight into his own personality and he realized that his
greedy little subconscious had collected all the cues and signals from
the encounter at the spaceport and goaded him into a line of a