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 uncertain 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