eace.

On the frontier the real conflict raged, fought with all the weapons
of treachery and an arsenal of highly refined atomic weapons--the
blaster which could tear a man into component elements, and the
L-bombs that were capable of turning a young sun into a nova.

The woman passed through the security check with no trouble. The men
knew her and made only a perfunctory examination of her cards. But
Hunter again had difficulty because of the blaster in his bag. His
registered permit carried no weight with the guards. It was not their
duty to execute existing law, but to protect their private employers.

However, the Consolidated insignia on Hunter's jacket made the three
Consolidated guards ready to honor his permit. Eventually they
persuaded the opposition to pass Hunter into the city, on the ground
that the captain's zero-zero adjustment index indicated that it was
safe for him to carry arms.

When Hunter went through the probe, he found the woman waiting for
him. During the half-hour ride from the spaceport, he had tried twice
to start a conversation with her, and failed. Now, abruptly, her face
was animated with interest. She put her arm through his and walked
with him to the lift shaft.

"So you got away with it, Captain." Since it was long-standing
fashion, she had trained her voice to sound low-pitched and husky. "I
mean, bringing a blaster into center-city."

"Why all this fuss about a gun?" Hunter asked.

"It's a new government regulation," she told him.

"The government doesn't make the law," he reminded her. "The cartels
do."

"The last fiscal mental health report showed the percentage of
maladjusted--" She laughed throatily. "I wish we'd use words honestly!
The survey showed the _lunatic_ percentage is still increasing. The
cartels are using that report as an excuse to keep the people
unarmed."

Hunter was regarding her steadily. "Why?" he asked.

"We're not as content with our world as we're supposed to be," she
said. "Eric Young can't keep all of us in line forever. Captain, we
could use your blaster. It's next to impossible to get one these days.
I could make it worth your while--"

"It's registered to me," Hunter pointed out.

"I'll change the serial," was her instant reply. "Your name wouldn't
be involved."

"No, I want to keep it."

"To use yourself?"

"Don't talk nonsense," he said. "This isn't the frontier."

He made the denial vehemently, but deep in his mind he had an
unce