recognized
him. It was the man who had lounged near the building directory when I
had come in. "Come ahead," he said into the mike.

* * * * *

I turned my back on him and stomped into my office. Let them follow
me.

But only one man came in, a minute or so later. "Does it have to be so
dark?" he asked politely.

"Rheostat's by your elbow," I said. He reached for it and turned on
the ceiling, closing the door that cut us off from the waiting room.

"Good evening, Counselor," he said, taking the seat across my desk
from me. He looked different without his judicial robes, not quite as
much my senior as I had thought. He wasn't any taller than I was,
perhaps five feet nine, and thirty pounds lighter. Between us we had
about an average forehead--his went up to the top of his head--my
hairline starts about where my eyebrows leave off. Robes or no robes,
there was something judicial about him, as though he'd been born with
a gavel in his hand.

"Good evening, Your Honor," I said to Judge Passarelli. "You have a
pretty active pipeline into Stigma circles, don't you?"

It didn't bother him. "As long as judgeships are elective offices,
Maragon," he said. "Judges will play politics. Fill me in on this Mary
Hall thing."

"Without violating professional ethics?" I asked.

"You'll try cases again, in front of judges," he snapped not very
judicial. "Don't get me angry with you, Maragon."

I countered: "The shoe is on the other foot--I'm darned sore at you."
He tried to find his receding hairline with his thin eyebrows. "Don't
look so amazed--do you think I haven't figured out my defending that
TK Crescas was no accident? You set me up for it."

"Set you up for a resoundingly successful defense," he observed.

"And a resoundingly bad press!" I said. "I have a living to make in
this town--"

"Psis are still citizens," he said. "I'm tired of seeing them thrown
to the wolves by the jackals who practice law from a phone booth. Psis
deserve a decent defense. Without you, Crescas would be in prison."

[Illustration]

"And without _you_," I growled at him, "I might still have a law
practice."

"So you're helping them find Mary Hall--to embarrass me?"

"I've already found her," I said. "Feel embarrassed?"

"Not yet," he conceded. "What are you planning to do?"

"We've accepted a fee to turn her over to a client," I revealed. "I
guess that's not unethical to tell you."

"And you'll do t