world lay within the boundaries of the Canadian Flats Ordnance Research Project. But safely so. The Centaurians were as eager to set these secrets as—well, as had been the Russians during the first phase of the atomic era when the world was divided into two frightened and belligerent camps. Strange, Kendall thought, that he should think of that period. The world had long since become one frightened and belligerent camp but the problem of survival had greatened as advanced science had opened the starways. "I said—lock the door!" Kendall complied. As he returned to his desk, he sensed the man was smiling behind his mask. What was he? A Centaurian? Either that or a Terran. Certainly not a Venusian unless he was standing on a box. "Sit down." "All right. Let's get on with it." "In my own good time. First, let me sympathize with you on your love for your wife." "What sort of idiocy are you talking about?" The man ignored the question. "You are unique in that love, Mr. Kendall. We conducted a telepathic survey of every married scientist in this project. And only one psych-pattern was suited to our purpose." Kendall scowled. "I think you are enjoying this—but I'm not. And believe me, you'll live to regret it." "We were fortunate in finding you, Mr. Kendall—the one man here who would be incapable of allowing his wife to die horribly if he could prevent it—no matter what the cost." A vague fear coupled with a chill was seeping through Kendall's brain. "Say what you've come to say and get it over with!" "I'm doing just that. We have your wife, Kendall. We got her at ten o'clock this morning." "Impossible! Our security is foolproof. No person has ever been kidnapped from any world defense project!" "Never before, but let me tell you why. Because such a hostage would have been of little value. Terran scientists and defense personnel have been psychologically conditioned to the point of fanaticism. We have never before discovered a Terran scientist who would put his wife or any other loved one before
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