"But if you don't mind," Midge said coolly, "what I meant by my question was, have you got any ideas about what we're going to do?"

"Sure. I'll go in there doped to the eyebrows. I'll use—"

"Wait," said Midge. "Please. You said, 'I'll go in?'"

"That's right. I go in; you stay in the ship and watch. You also listen, but through a whisper mike—you'll hear everything I say but not what the other fellow says. In other words, I go over the cliff, you hold my legs. Catch on?"

Midge said nothing.

"As I was saying, I'll use antihypnotics, and you might as well give me a good dose of countersuggestion, too, but those are just playing it safe. What I'm counting on to do the stunt is arnophrene."

"Arnophrene!" Midge stared at him.

"Sure. In heavy dosage, the stuff inhibits your ability to add two and two. You can follow an argument, in pieces, and even make reasonably intelligent replies, but you can't hang onto it long enough to put it all together. In other words, if they convince me of anything, it'll be on the order of 'Your nose is on the front of your face'... I'll be sick as a dog afterwards, of course, and I may not remember much of what they feed me. But you can hold my head, and drag the information out of me under hypno if you have to. Remember to be careful what you ask for, in that case—we want to know who these people are and what they're up to, not what they think about the Great Spirit."

Midge kept looking at him somberly. "I don't like it," she said.

"I don't like it either. Neither will Harlow, if he has to get me burned down for trying to save souls ... although, come to think of it, I can think of ways to play it smarter than Jackson did. Make a phony report, duck out somewhere along the line between here and H.Q., and then find me a nice uninhabited planet to hide on for a while. Pirate another ship later, maybe; wear a false beard." He sighed. "But, come to think of it again, I guess all that has occurred to Harlow, too."

He looked at Midge. "What'll you do if I should get sold before you can yank me out of there?"

Her eyes were steadier than her husband's. "Follow you down and buy myself a tambourine," she said. "What did you think?"

Midge's small hands were painfully tight on the edge of the control 

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