ertainly," Illiardi said. "Thin fellow. Cross-eyed. As mean a man as
you could find."

"Were you present when he was killed?"

"I was there. It was the first thing I remembered when I got off the
ship."

"Did you see who killed him?"

Illiardi looked puzzled. "I didn't have to see. _I_ killed him."

Barrent forced himself to speak in a calm, steady voice. "Are you sure
of that? Are you absolutely certain?"

"Of course I'm sure," Illiardi said. "And I'll fight any man who tries
to take credit for it. I killed Therkaler, and he deserved worse than
that."

"When you killed him," Barrent asked, "did you see _me_ anywhere
around?"

Illiardi looked at him carefully, then shook his head. "No, I don't
think I saw you. But I can't be sure. Right after I killed Therkaler,
everything goes sort of blank."

"Thank you," Barrent said. He left the Euphoriatorium.

Chapter Fourteen

Barrent had much to think about, but the more he thought, the more he
became confused. If Illiardi had killed Therkaler, why had Barrent been
deported to Omega? If an honest mistake had been made, why hadn't he
been released when the true murderer was discovered? Why had someone on
Earth accused him of a crime he hadn't committed? And why had a false
memory of that crime been superimposed on his mind just beneath the
conscious level?

Barrent had no answers for his questions. But he knew that he had never
felt like a murderer. Now he had proof, of sorts, that he wasn't a
murderer.

The sensation of innocence changed everything for him. He had less
tolerance for Omegan ways, and no interest at all in conforming to a
criminal mode of life. The only thing he wanted was to escape from Omega
and return to his rightful heritage on Earth.

But that was impossible. Day and night, the guardships circled overhead.
Even if there had been some way of evading them, escape would still
have been impossible. Omegan technology had progressed only as far as
the internal combustion engine; the only starships were commanded by
Earth forces.

Barrent continued to work in the Antidote Shop, but his lack of public
spirit was growing apparent. He ignored invitations from the Dream Shop,
and never attended any of the popular public executions. When roving
mobs were formed to have a little fun in the Mutant Quarter, Barrent
usually pleaded a headache. He never joined the Landing Day Hunts, and
he was rude to an accredited salesman from the Torture of the