t up straight beside Keys on the bench, and her fair face
flushed pinkly. "Drop dead!" she told me.

I stood up. "See you in jail," I said, and started for the door.

* * * * *

Elmer had played tackle for Ol' Miss--he sure stopped me in my tracks.
"I reckon we ain't through with you yet, Yankee," he grinned. He hurt
me with his hands, big as country hams. My stiffened fingers jabbed
his T-shirt where it covered his solar plexus, and he dropped back,
gasping.

"You could learn a little about fighting, too, Psi," I growled. "And
you're through with me if that bottle blonde won't answer my
questions."

"Hey!" Keys protested. "Come on, relax. Everybody!" he snapped, as
Elmer got his breath back and came in for another tackle. I signaled
for a fair catch, and he eased up.

I peered over my shoulder at the girl at the piano. "Well?" I asked
her. "Where _were_ your parents on the 19th of April in '75?"

Her eyes sought out Keys'. He nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor.
"About fifty miles from Logan, Iowa," she said.

"And you don't have the Stigma?" I scoffed.

"Not everybody inside the Logan Ring was affected," she reminded me.
"Which is my tough luck. But I _am_ being crucified because Mother
and Dad _were_ in the Ring the day the N-bomb went off, whether I have
the Stigma or not."

I came back to stand in front of her. "I'm an attorney," I said. "I
have an idea what can happen to you if the Courts get hold of you.
Right now they can't find you--which must mean you've been hiding."
She confirmed that with a nod, biting her red, red lips. "They _are_
after you, and a Federal rap is just the start," I said. "You have
only one chance, Mary, and I'm glad you claimed it. The only way you
can keep them from putting you over a barrel is to prove you don't
have the Stigma. I think I know a way to do it. Are you ready to let
me help you?"

"Not _that_ fast," she said, looking worried. "Oh, I trust Keys'
judgment about you. Yes, I _do_," she said earnestly, turning to
Crescas. "Yes, I _know_ he got you off, Keys. But it doesn't sound
right. Why should he take a chance helping a Psi--even if I really
_don't_ have the Stigma? What's his angle?"

"Fair enough," Keys said. "How about it, Maragon?"

"I knew it was a bum rap they were trying to pin on Mary as soon as I
heard about it," I explained. "This business about Mary having HC.
There just isn't any such Psi power as hallucination, a