same time. The sights of my .375 centered in the middle of a
silk-covered midriff.

She stood there indolently, disdainful of the cannon that was aimed at
her. She was not armed; I'd have caught the esper warning of danger if
she'd come at me with a weapon of some sort, even though I was
preoccupied with the bookful of evidence.

I stood up and faced her and let my esper run lightly over her body. She
was another Mekstrom, which did not surprise me a bit.

"I seem to have found what I was looking for," I said.

Her laugh was scornful but not loud. "You're welcome, Mr. Cornell."

#Telepath?#

"Yes, and a good one."

#Who else is awake?#

"Just me, so far," she replied quietly. "But I'll be glad to call out--"

#Keep it quiet, Sister Macklin.#

"Stop thinking like an idiot, Mr. Cornell. Quiet or not, you'll not
leave this house until I permit you to go."

I let my esper roam quickly through the house. An elderly couple slept
in the front bedroom. A man slept alone in the room beside them; a pair
of young boys slept in an over-and-under bunk in the room across the
hall. The next room must have been hers, the bed was tumbled but empty.
The room next to the medical office contained a man trussed in traction
splints, white bandages, and literally festooned with those little
hanging bottles that contain everything from blood plasma to food and
water, right on down to lubrication for the joints. I tried to dig his
face under the swath of bandage but I couldn't make out much more than
the fact that it was a face and that the face was half Mekstrom Flesh.

"He is a Mekstrom Patient," said Miss Macklin quietly. "At this stage,
he is unconscious."

I sort of sneered at her. "Good friend of yours, no doubt."

"Not particularly," she said. "Let's say that he is a poor victim that
would die if we hadn't found his infection early." The tone and
expression of her voice made me seethe; she sounded as though she felt
herself to be a real benefactor to the human race, and that she and her
outfit would do the same for any other poor guy that caught
Mekstrom's--providing they learned about this unfortunate occurrence in
time.

"We would, Mr. Cornell."

"Bah-loney," I grunted.

"Why dispute my word?" she asked in the same tone of innocent honesty.

I eyed her angrily and I felt my hand tighten on the revolver. "I've a
reason to become suspicious," I told her in a voice that I hoped was as
mild-mannered as her own. "Bec