eir self-confidence," he said, "and that means they're
going to start noticing us. Figure it out, Newman, about one-third the
population of Earth--nobody can get exact figures--is outside the
System. The paraNormals will want to reduce our numbers if more
breakdowns take place. I'll have to go into hiding soon."

"But why you of all people?" Connor protested.

"Because I and a few thousand others like me represent not only an
alternative way of life--all Suspendeds do that--but we possess more
intensive knowledge for rehabilitating society after Central's collapse.
That collapse may come much sooner than we've been expecting. When it
does we're going to have enormous hordes of paras milling around,
helplessly waiting to learn how to think for themselves again. Well,
when we finally reach the telepath stage next time we'll have to manage
it better." He took out an envelope. "If anything happens to me, this
contains the names of some people you're to contact."

"Why don't you come to our place now?" asked Rhoda. "We'll still be able
to hold it for a few more months."

"Can't go yet, too many things to clear up. But maybe later." He rose
and extended his hand to them. "Anyway it's a kind--and brave--offer."

"Sounds overly melodramatic to me," Connor said when they were outside.
"Who'd want to harm a psychiatric worker with no knowledge except what's
in his head and his personal library?"

* * *

But he stopped harping on the point when they reached the monorail
station. Three Suspendeds, obviously better educated than most, were
being led away by a large group of paraNormals. The paraNormals had
their smug expressions back but there was a strange gleam of
determination in their eyes. "Sometimes life itself gets overly
melodramatic," Rhoda said nervously.

The possible fate of these arrested men haunted him all the way home as
did the hostile stares of the people in the monorail car. At home,
though, there was the momentary consolation of a pair of letters from
the boys. There was little information in them but they did at least
convey in every line love for their parents.

But even this consolation did not last long. Why, Connor muttered to
himself, did they have to wait for letters when telephone and radio
systems could have eased their loneliness so much more effectively?
Because the paras did not need such systems and their needs were the
only ones that mattered! His fingers itched to achie