ction
that looked uncomfortably like suicide. The arrival of the stranger,
the threat to himself, the automatic assumption by the Pyrrans that
they would take care of him. Apparently his ego and his subconscious
felt that he had been taken care of too long. They had managed to get
him into this spot from which he could only be extricated by his own
talents, far away from Pyrrus and the pressures that had been weighing
on him so long.

He took a deep breath and smiled. It wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Stupid in retrospect, but the stupidity could hopefully be kept in the
past. Now he had to prove that there was something other than a death
wish in his subconscious flight from Pyrrus, and he must find a way to
reverse positions with this cop, whoever he was. Which meant that he
had to find out a little more about the man before making any plans.

* * * * *

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, officer. How about telling
me who you are and showing me a warrant or something under which you
are performing this deed of interstellar justice."

"I am Mikah Samon. I am returning you to Cassylia for trial and
sentencing."

"Ah, yes," Jason sighed. "I'm not surprised to hear that they are
still interested in finding me. But I should warn you that there is
very little remaining of the three-billion, seventeen-million credits
that I won from your casino."

"Cassylia doesn't want the money back," Mikah said as he locked the
controls and swung about in his chair. "They don't want you back
either. You are their planetary hero now. When you escaped with your
ill-gotten gains they realized that they would never see the money
again. So they put their propaganda mills to work and you are now
known throughout all the adjoining star systems as 'Jason 3-Billion',
the living proof of the honesty of their dishonest games, and a lure
for all the weak in spirit. You tempt them into gambling for money
instead of working honestly for it."

"Pardon me for being thick today," Jason said, shaking his head
rapidly to loosen up the stuck synapses. "I'm having a little
difficulty in following you. What kind of a policeman are you to
arrest me for trial after the charges have been dropped?"

"I'm not a policeman," Mikah said sternly, his long fingers woven
tightly together before him, his eyes wide and penetrating. "I'm a
believer in Truth--nothing more. The corrupt politicians who control
Cassylia have p