ead it through her eyes, her hand or her dress in what she sees
could identify her. I'm telling you to remind Zani that communication by
those sensory transmitters can be overheard. Sooner or later it will be.
She must work out ways to avoid being identified. If they think more
people of her race have landed, that's all right. But it may be bad if
she's caught communicating with Fran."

* * * * *

Gail said nothing for a long time.

"That's--that's all?"

"Just about. I'm Fran's antagonist in one matter only. I'll do anything
I can to keep him from calling all his race to come here. I hate it, but
I'll do it. Outside of that, I feel that he's here through my fault. I
do not want him to be psychologically vivisected by people who want
everything he knows, and won't believe there are limits to it. So long
as he's at large, there probably won't be frenzied questioning of the
others."

"The--things in the belt are very simple," said Gail unsteadily, "and
the children were scared and jumpy when they were taken away. So Fran
told me, and he'd picked up some scraps of metal. Copper, it was. And I
watched for him."

Soames said nothing.

"He took a straw," said Gail, "and used it as a sort of blowpipe. He
could direct the flame of a candle I made for him. It would be
heat-treatment?"

Soames nodded, in the darkness.

"It would. A pattern of heat-treatment might give a metal all sorts of
properties we haven't guessed at." He added sardonically, "And it could
be so simple that a boy could remember and do it!"

"He made six communicators," said Gail. "I insisted on six. And then I
chose two at random for safety's sake, I suppose. And he and the other
children hid theirs. I tried these two. They work. One is for you. Of
course."

She fumbled something into his hand. It was tiny; hardly larger than a
match.

"You push in the end. It works as long as you push it."

Soames pressed on one end where there was something that felt like the
head of a pin. It probably was. It gave a little, and instantly he saw
what Gail saw and felt what she felt, his hand clasping hers. He
released the tiny object and again was only himself.

"Turn yours off," he said harshly. "Remind the kids that this sort of
thing can be intercepted."

"I'll tell them," said Gail.

"They're much worse off than they were," he told her. "A little while
ago all the world wanted to learn from the kids. Now it's afraid th