hat?"

"After one more step."

"And that is?"

"Prove that she hasn't got the Stigma."

"_Hasn't_ got it!" He hopped out of his chair and pressed his knuckles
on my desk.

"You'd better do a little more research, if you're going to let your
black heart bleed over these Stigma cases, Judge," I grinned at him.
"All this talk about Mary Hall using HC on your vision. That will
never embarrass you. There isn't such a thing as HC--hallucination is
an old wives' tale. It was sleight of hand, in the bank and in your
courtroom. Don't stand still for that noise about HC."

"I'll be switched," he said. "You're serious?"

"Sure."

He frowned at me. "She's still in trouble," he reminded me. "The
Federal Grand Jury--"

"Restitution ought to cure that," I said. "Especially if we threaten a
lawsuit for slander--I think it's libelous to claim a Normal has the
Stigma. Mutual release all around."

"You'll represent her?" he asked.

"Would you consider it ethical? I don't see how my assignment to turn
Mary Hall over to your political opponents will stop me from
representing her in a lawsuit, do you?"

He shook his head, straightening up. "I don't see how," he agreed. "I
hope you do defend her, Maragon. The Courts have had to be pretty
tough on these pathetic people. If they had reputable representatives,
I for one would be a lot more ready to suspend sentences and find
other ways to help them out of the jams their weird powers get them
into."

"I'll think about it," I said. "In the meantime--stay away from me."

"We're both poison right now," he agreed. "And thanks."

* * * * *

Mary Hall was still at T-shirted Elmer's when I dialed his phone, and
she agreed to meet me on the street in front of the Moldy Fig. My
'copter had barely settled to the pavement when she came running from
the doorway to the stairs and hopped into the bubble with me.

"Columbia University," I told the hacker. "Rhine Building."

Professor Lindstrom was waiting for us in his laboratory, in carpet
slippers and without his tie. "Laboratory" is a perfectly silly term.
The "apparatus" in any Psi lab is no more complicated than a folding
screen, some playing cards, perhaps a deck of Rhine ESP cards and a
slide rule. This place went so far as to sport a laboratory bench and
a number of lab stools, on which Lindstrom, Mary Hall and I perched.
My egghead Psi expert was barely able to restrain himself--he had some
bitter