oughts came
through; there were none of the fringe thoughts that the six were used
to in each other.

"That's true," thought Reinhardt. "You see, we have been at this a good
deal longer than you." Then he directed his thoughts at members of the
crew of the spaceship, but they could still be heard by the six
prisoners. "All right, men, get those people off those rocks. We have to
make room for another batch."

The airlock in the side of the ship opened, and a dozen spacesuited men
leaped out. The propulsion units in their hands guided them toward the
prison asteroids.

"Give them all anaesthetic except Sager and Pederson," Reinhardt
ordered. "They won't need it." Then, with a note of apology, "I'm sorry
we'll have to anaesthetize you, but you've been in one position so long
that moving you will be rather painful. We have to get you to a hospital
quickly."

The minds of the six prisoners were frantically pounding questions at
the PD chief, but he gave them no answer. "No; wait until you're
better."

The spacesuited rescuers went to the "back" of each asteroid and
injected sleep-gas into the oxygen line that ran from the tank to the
spacesuit of the prisoner.

Houston could smell the sweetish, pungent odor in his helmet. Just
before he blacked out, he hurled one last accusing thought at Reinhardt.

"_You're_ the one who's been framing Controllers!"

"Naturally, Houston," came the answer. "How else could I get you out
here?"

* * * * *

Houston woke up in a hospital bed. He was weak and hungry, but he felt
no pain. As he came up from unconsciousness, he felt a fully awake mind
guiding him out of the darkness.

It was Reinhardt.

"You're a tough man, Houston," he said mentally. "The others won't wake
up for a while yet."

He was sitting on a chair next to the bed, holding a smouldering
cigarette in one hand. He looked strange, somehow, and it took Houston a
moment to realize that there was a smile on that broad, normally
expressionless face.

Houston focussed his eyes on the man's face. "I want an explanation,
Reinhardt," he said aloud. "And it better be a damned good one."

"I give you free access to my mind," Reinhardt said. "See for yourself
if my method wasn't the best one."

* * * * *

Houston probed. The explanation, if not the best, was better than any
Houston could have thought of.

When the hatred of the normal-minded people of E