able made of a single slab of dark wood set on short, curved legs.
Malone looked around at the other three with a relaxed feeling of
recognition: Andrew J. Burris, Sir Lewis Carter, and Luba Vasilovna
Garbitsch.

"That mind shield of yours," Burris was saying, "is functioning very
well. We weren't entirely sure you had actually located us until you
pulled into that driveway."

"I wasn't entirely sure what I was locating," Malone said.

"And so it's over," Burris said with a satisfied air. "Everything's
over."

"And just beginning," Sir Lewis put in. He drew a pipe from an inside
pocket and began to fill it.

"And, of course," Burris said, "just beginning. Things do that; they
go round and round in circles. It's what makes everything so
confusing."

"And so much fun," Lou said, leaning back in her chair. She didn't
look hostile now, Malone thought; she looked like a cat, wary but
content. He decided that he liked this Lou even better than the old
one. Lou, at home among her psionic colleagues, was even more than
he'd ever thought she could be.

"More what?" she said suddenly. Burris jerked upright a trifle.

"What's more what?" he said. "Damn it, let's stick to one thing or the
other. As soon as this thing starts mixing talk and thought it
confuses me."

"Never mind," Lou said. She smiled across the table at Malone.

Malone jerked a finger under his collar.

"What made you decide to come here?" Sir Lewis said. He had the pipe
lit now, and blew a cloud of fragrant smoke over the table.

Malone wondered where to start. "One of the clues," he said at last,
"was the efficiency of the FBI. It hit me the same way the efficiency
of the PRS had hit me, while I was looking at the batch of reports
that had been run off so rapidly."

"Ah," Sir Lewis said. "The dossiers."

"Dossiers?" Burris said.

Sir Lewis puffed at his pipe. "Sorry," he said. "I thought you had
been tuned in for that."

"I was busy," Burris said. "I can't tune into everything. After all,
I've only got one mind."

"And two hands," Malone said at random.

"At least," Lou said. Their eyes met in a glance of perfect
understanding.

"What the hell do hands have to do with it?" Burris said.

Sir Lewis shrugged. "Tune in and see," he said. "It's an old joke; but
you'll never really adjust to telepathy unless you practice."

"Damn it," Burris said, "I practice. I'm always practicing. This and
that and the other thing--after all, I am the dire