e within view of the cabin, he
discovered Celia and her visitor on the covered back patio, drinks
standing before them. Jackson was in hunting clothes. Phil remained
quietly back among the trees for some seconds watching the two, aware of
something like a last-minute hesitancy. A number of things passed slowly
through his mind.

What they planned to do was no small matter. It was a hoax which should
have far-reaching results, on a gigantic scale. And if Earth government
realized it had been hoaxed, the thing could become very unpleasant.
That tough-minded central bureaucracy did not ordinarily bother to
obtain proof against those it suspected. The suspicion was enough.
Individuals and groups whom the shadow of doubt touched found themselves
shunted unobtrusively into some backwater of existence and kept there.
It was supposed to be very difficult to emerge from such a position
again.

In the back of his mind, Phil had been conscious of that, but it had
seemed an insignificant threat against the excitement arising from the
grandiose impudence of the plan, the perhaps rather small-boyish delight
at being able to put something over, profitably, on the greatest power
of all. Even now it might have been only a natural wariness that brought
the threat up for a final moment of reflection. He didn't, of course,
want to incur Earth government's disapproval. But why believe that he
might? On all Roye there would be only three who knew--Wayne Jackson,
Celia Adams, and himself. All three would benefit, each in a different
way, and all would be equally responsible for the hoax. No chance of
indiscretion or belated qualms there. Their own interest ruled it out in
each case.

And from the other men now involved there was as little danger of
betrayal. Their gain would be vastly greater, but they had
correspondingly more to lose. They would take every step required to
insure their protection, and in doing that they would necessarily take
the best of care of Phil Boles.

* * * * *

"How did you ever get such a thing smuggled in to Roye?" Phil asked.
He'd swallowed half the drink Celia offered him at a gulp and now, a few
minutes later, he was experiencing what might have been under different
circumstances a comfortable glow, but which didn't entirely erase the
awareness of having committed himself at this hour to an irrevocable
line of action.

Celia stroked a fluffy lock of red-brown hair back from