o one ever seemed to call
them in. No one even knew how to get in touch with them. He shrugged.

The men of the Special Corps, he remembered, were reputed to be
something in the superhuman line.

For a large part of his life, he had dreamed of working with them, but
he had been unable to find any way of so much as applying for
membership in their select group. So, he'd done the next best thing.
He'd gone into the Stellar Guard. And he'd lasted only a little more
than three years.

Somehow, he'd taken it from there. He was still a little hazy as to
how he'd managed to land in prison on Kell's planet. It had been a
mere stopover.

There had been no trial. Obviously, they had searched his luggage at
the hotel, but there had been no discussion. He'd simply been beamed
into unconsciousness.

After he'd gotten to Opertal, someone had told him the length of his
sentence and they'd assigned him to the prison machine shop, to learn
a useful trade and the duties of a citizen of Kellonia.

He smiled wryly. They had taught him machinery. And they'd introduced
him to their culture. The trade was good. The culture--?

* * * * *

His memory slid back, past the prison--past the years in Kendall Hall,
and beyond.

He was ten years old again.

It was a sunny day in a park and Billy Darfield was holding forth.

"Yeah," the boy was saying, "Dad told me about the time he met one of
them. They look just like anyone else. Only, when things go wrong,
there they are, just all at once. And when they tell you to do
something, you've had it." He closed his eyes dreamily.

"Oh, boy," he said happily, "how I'd love to be like that! Wouldn't it
be fun to tell old Winant, 'go off some place and drown yourself'?"

Stan smiled incredulously. "Aw, I've heard a lot about the Special
Corps, too. They've just got a lot of authority, that's all. They can
call in the whole Stellar Guard if they need 'em. Who's going to get
wise with somebody that can do that?"

Billy shook his head positively. "Dad told me all about them, and he
knows. He saw one of 'em chase a king right off his throne once.
Wasn't anybody to help him, either. They've got all they need, all by
themselves. Just have to tell people, that's all."

* * * * *

With a jerk, Stan came to the present. He slopped water over his
hands.

"Too bad I can't do something like that myself," he thought. "I'd like
to tell a f