cilor was silent until the door closed behind General
Judd. "Sit down, Docchi," he said with unexpected kindness. He paused
to note the effect. "I can sympathize with you. You had everything you
wanted nearly within your reach. And, after that, to return to
Handicap Haven--well, I can understand how you feel. But since you did
return, I think we can arrange to do something for you."

Docchi stared at the man on the screen. A spot of light pulsed on his
cheek and then flared rapidly over his face.

"Sure," he said casually. "But there are criminal charges against me."

"A formality," said the medicouncilor. "With a thing like the
discovery--or rediscovery--of the gravital drive to think about, no
one is going to worry much about your unauthorized departure from the
asteroid."

Medicouncilor Thorton sounded pleased. "I don't want to mislead you.
We can't do any more for you medically than has already been done.
However, you will find yourself the center of a more adequate social
life. Friends, work, whatever you want. Naturally, in return for this,
we will expect your full cooperation."

"Naturally." Docchi blinked at him and got to his feet. "Sounds
interesting. I'd like to think about it for a minute."

Cameron planted himself squarely in front of the screen. "Maybe I
don't understand. I think you've got the wrong person."

"Dr. Cameron!" Thorton glowered. "Please explain."

"It was an easy mistake to make," said Cameron. "Cut off from
communication, the gravital drive began to work. How? Why? Mostly, who
did it? You knew it wasn't I. I'm a doctor, not a physicist. Nor
Jordan, he's at best a mechanic. Therefore it had to be Docchi,
because he's an engineer. He could make it work. But it wasn't Docchi.
He had nothing to do with--"

"Look out!" cried Thorton too late.

Cameron fell to his knees. The same foot that brought him down crashed
into his chin. His head snapped back and he sprawled on the floor.
Blood trickled from his face.

"Docchi!" shouted Thorton from the screen.

Docchi didn't answer. He was crashing through the door. The commander
was lounging against the wall. Head down, Docchi ran into him. The
toaster fell from his belt to the floor. With scarcely a pause, Docchi
stamped on it and continued running.

The commander got to his feet and retrieved the weapon. He aimed it
tentatively at the retreating figure; a thought occurred to him and he
lowered it. He examined the damaged mechanism. Afte