ite yourself, Rammer." There was a suggestion of what might be
contempt in Maulbow's tone now. "The girl hasn't been harmed. She can
breathe easily through the restrainer. And you can remove it by pulling
at the material from outside."

Gefty's mouth tightened. "I'll keep my gun on the passage while I do
it--"

Maulbow didn't answer. Gefty edged back into the map room, tentatively
grasped the transparent stuff above Kerim's shoulder. To his surprise,
it parted like wet tissue. He pulled sharply, and in a moment Kerim came
peeling herself out of it, her face tear-stained, working desperately
with hands, elbows and shoulders.

"Gefty," she gasped, "he ... Mr. Maulbow--"

"He's out in the passage there," Gefty said. "He can hear you." His
glance shifted for an instant to the wall where a second of the
shroudlike transparencies was hanging. And who could that have been
intended for, he thought, but Gefty Rammer? He added, "We've had a
little trouble."

"Oh!" She looked out of the room towards the passage, then at the gun in
Gefty's hand, then up at his face.

"Maulbow," Gefty went on, speaking distinctly enough to make sure
Maulbow heard, "has a gun, too. He'll stay there in the passage and
we'll stay in the instrument room until we agree on what should be done.
He's responsible for what's happened and seems to know where we are."

He looked at Kerim's frightened eyes, dropped his voice to a whisper.
"Don't let this worry you too much. I haven't found out just what he's
up to, but so far his tricks have pretty much backfired. He was counting
on taking us both by surprise, for one thing. That didn't work, so now
he'd like us to co-operate."

"Are you going to?"

Gefty shrugged. "Depends on what he has in mind. I'm just interested in
getting us out of this alive. Let's hear what Maulbow has to say--"

* * * * *

Some minutes later Gefty was trying to decide whether it was taking a
worse risk to believe what Maulbow said than to keep things stalled on
the chance that he was lying.

Kerim Ruse, perched stiffly erect on the edge of a chair, eyes big and
round, face almost colorless, apparently believed Maulbow and was
wishing she didn't. There was, of course, some supporting evidence ...
primarily the improbable appearance of their surroundings. The
pencil-thin fire-spouter and the sleazy-looking "restrainer" had a
sufficiently unfamiliar air to go with Maulbow's story; but as far as