rtain feeling that her guess was right. Earth was not the
battle-ground, but it had spawned the conflict. The appearance of
peace was a sham. Here the battle was fought with more subtlety, but
the objective remained the same.

If Ann Saymer had somehow been caught in the no-man's-land between the
two cartels--It was the first time that thought had occurred to
Hunter, and it filled him with a dread foreboding.

The woman sensed his feeling. He saw a smile on her curving lips. She
said softly, "So even a spaceman sometimes has his doubts."

"I left the service this morning," he said. Suddenly he was telling
her all about himself and Ann. It was unwise, perhaps even dangerous.
But he had to unburden himself to someone or run the risk of losing
his emotional control.

"So now you've lost this--this ambitious woman of yours," she said
when he had finished.

"No," he protested. "I won't let myself believe that. Once I did--"

"As well as her interesting invention--the Exorciser," she went on
relentlessly. "Have you ever wondered, Captain Hunter, what might
happen if the platinum grid was _not_ removed from a patient's brain?"

"No, but I suppose--I suppose he'd remain in control of the operator
of the transmitter."

She nodded. "He'd become a perfectly adjusted specimen with a
zero-zero index, but--he'd also become a human robot with no will of
his own."

"But Ann wouldn't--"

"Not Ann, Captain. Not the girl you've waited so long to marry. All
she wants is a clinic of her own so that she can help the maladjusted.
But don't forget--she holds a _priceless_ patent. Keep your blaster,
my friend. I've an idea you may need it."

He gripped her wrist. "You know something about this?"

"I know the world we live in--nothing more."

"But you're guessing--"

"Later, Captain, after you start putting some facts together on your
own." She pulled away from him. "If you want to find me again--and I
think you will--look for me in Number thirty-four on the amusement
level. Ask for Dawn."

Suddenly, for no reason that he could explain, he had for her a great
sympathy. She was no ordinary woman. Her discernment was
extraordinary, and she possessed, in addition, a strangely elusive
charm.

They rode the lift as it moved up through the city level in its
transparent, fairy-world shaft. Dawn got out first, at the mid-city
walk-way where the cheapest shops and the gaudiest entertainment
houses were crammed together. Dazzling in