ame.

Bryce recalled a danger he had made no move to guard against. "The
Board hired a psychologist, a mind hunter, to find out who's doing the
undermining. He's one of the Manoba group. Remember the name, look it
up and find out what their methods are, how to recognize them, and
report back what to do about it."

"I'll take care of him," Roy Pierce said absently, moving his knight
to threaten Bryce's bishop.

"No unnecessary trouble. Remember I have to keep my name clean." Bryce
moved a pawn one step to cover the bishop and leave room for his other
bishop to menace the knight.

"I'll be careful. There'll be no publicity. He won't get hurt,"
Pierce said, moving the knight into Bryce's second line where it
threatened the king and a cornered castle. "Check." And he added, as
if apologizing for having delayed his move, "I don't like to move
until I'm sure what's going on."

The remark didn't seem to be suited to the game, as if he had referred
to something else.

* * * * *

It was during dinner on the Moon that he and Pierce loosened up for
the first time since the ambush. Pierce had been comparatively silent
since the chess game on the trip back and Bryce too, whether in
sympathy with him or in a naturally parallel mood, had little to say.
But now the tension had diffused and, with the stimulus of aromatic
food, they climbed out of their depression of emotional solemnity.

The decorations of the dining room were lush. While they ate, the
materialism of their lives was reinforced. From silvered-and-tapestried
wall to wall there was life here, low-keyed with excitement in the blend
of subdued talk and the shifting artistry of lights and music. Their table
was almost in the center of the islands of tables and potted trees, and
around them were the diners, their voices washing up at them both,
inviting them with gentle tugs to surrender their resistance, beckoning
them into the sea of simple pleasures.

"We owe ourselves some fun, Bryce."

At Pierce's words, Bryce sharpened his eyes on the face across the
table. There was a touch of seriousness in those words; more like a
statement than a suggestion.

Pierce smiled wryly and took a vial out of his pocket and poured it
into his drink. He spun the empty bottle between thumb and fingers.

"We owe ourselves some fun," Pierce repeated. "We've nothing on the
fire tonight, nothing to do that's crucial. It's a good night to
experiment."