ep. Brion shivered while the bandage was
going on, then quickly slipped into his coat. The air conditioner
whined industriously, bringing down the temperature.

There was no attempt to follow the car. When the black tower had
dropped over the horizon the guards relaxed, ran cleaning rods
through their guns and compared marksmanship. All of their
antagonism towards Brion was gone; they actually smiled at him.
He had given them the first chance to shoot back since they had
been on this planet.

The ride was uneventful, and Brion was scarcely aware of it.
A theory was taking form in his mind. It was radical and
startling--yet it seemed to be the only one that fitted the facts.
He pushed at it from all sides, but if there were any holes he
couldn't find them. What it needed was dispassionate proving or
disproving. There was only one person on Dis who was qualified
to do this.

Lea was working in the lab when he came in, bent over a low-power
binocular microscope. Something small, limbless and throbbing was
on the slide. She glanced up when she heard his footsteps, smiling
warmly when she recognized him. Fatigue and pain had drawn her face;
her skin, glistening with burn ointment, was chapped and peeling.

"I must look a wreck," she said, putting the back of her hand to her
cheek. "Something like a well-oiled and lightly cooked piece of
beef." She lowered her arm suddenly and took his hand in both of
hers. Her palms were warm and slightly moist.

"Thank you, Brion," was all she could say. Her society on Earth was
highly civilized and sophisticated, able to discuss any topic
without emotion and without embarrassment. This was fine in most
circumstances, but made it difficult to thank a person for saving
your life. However you tried to phrase it, it came out sounding like
a last-act speech from a historical play. There was no doubt,
however, as to what she meant. Her eyes were large and dark, the
pupils dilated by the drugs she had been given. They could not lie,
nor could the emotions he sensed. He did not answer, just held her
hand an instant longer.

"How do you feel," he asked, concerned. His conscience twinged as
he remembered that he was the one who had ordered her out of bed
and back to work today.

"I should be feeling terrible," she said, with an airy wave of her
hand. "But I'm walking on top of the world. I'm so loaded with
pain-killers and stimulants that I'm high as the moon. All the
nerves to my feet fe