a single
word from him, the guard could turn executioner.

The chill thought hit Jason that undoubtedly this was what would happen.
Whether Kerk accepted the story or not--he couldn't afford to take a
chance. As long as there was the slightest possibility Jason had
contacted the grubbers, he could not be allowed to leave the planet
alive. The woods people were being simple if they thought a plan this
obvious might succeed. Or had they just gambled on the very long chance
it might work? _They_ certainly had nothing to lose by it.

Only half of Jason's mind was occupied with the work as he drew up a
list of materials he would need for the psionic direction finder. His
thoughts plodded in tight circles, searching for a way out that didn't
exist. He was too deeply involved now to just leave. Kerk would see to
that. Unless he could find a way to end the war and settle the grubber
question he was marooned on Pyrrus for life. A very short life.

When the list was ready he called Supply. With a few substitutions,
everything he might possibly need was in stock, and would be sent over.
Skop sank into an apparent doze in his chair and Jason, his head propped
against the pull of gravity by one arm, began a working sketch of his
machine.

Jason looked up suddenly, aware of the silence. He could hear machinery
in the building and voices in the hall outside. What kind of silence
then--?

Mental silence. He had been so preoccupied since his return to the city
that he hadn't noticed the complete lack of any kind of psi sensation.
The constant wash of animal reactions was missing, as was the vague
tactile awareness of his PK. With sudden realization he remembered that
it was always this way inside the city.

He tried to listen with his mind--and stopped almost before he began.
There was a constant press of thought about him that he was made aware
of when he reached out. It was like being in a vessel far beneath the
ocean, with your hand on the door that held back the frightening
pressure. Touching the door, without opening it, you could feel the
stresses, the power pushing in and waiting to crush you. It was this way
with the psi pressure on the city. The unvoiced hate-filled screams of
Pyrrus would instantly destroy any mind that received them. Some
function of his brain acted as a psi-circuit breaker, shutting off
awareness before his mind could be blasted. There was just enough
leak-through to keep him aware of the pressure--a