g about that. He'd made it clear that there was
plenty of time for napping during off-watch time. His officers, he said
positively, would never sleep while their men were on guard.

And he made checks, too. Hense struggled with himself. He had to wake
up.

It was insane. How, he wondered, could a guy be asleep and
dreaming--and know it? And, knowing it, why couldn't he wake himself
up? This was pure fantasy. Yeah, dream stuff. He waited nervously.

Any time now, the major could be coming around to check the guardroom.
Then the roof would fall in. Any minute now, he could expect to hear a
window-shattering roar.

"Halt!"

It was the Residence Guard. Post number two.

"All right," Michaels' voice was low. "Hold up. Answer him. Have him
continue his tour, and let's be on our way."

Hense stopped. "Officer of the Guard," he said loudly.

"Advance, one, to be recognized."

Hense sighed and stepped forward, then halted again at the guard's
command.

The man flashed a light on him, then raised his weapon to his face and
snapped it to the raise position again.

"I recognize you, sir. Any special instructions?"

"None. Just continue on your post."

Inwardly, Hense was reaching the boiling point. That hadn't been what
he'd intended to say, dammit! He----

"Pardon, sir," the guard was saying, "but how about this man here?"

Now, Hense realized, there must be something really going on. Dream
creatures just couldn't walk out of a man's mind and show up in front
of an alert guard. Or had he completely lost gyro synch? He----

Michaels broke in again. "It's all right, guard. Just continue on your
post. And keep an especially sharp lookout from now on."

"Yes, sir." The guard snapped his weapon up to his face again, then
holstered it and turned to continue his tour.

Hense looked after him.

It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

He resumed his pacing, toward the Residence.

"Oh, well," he thought resignedly, "might as well relax and enjoy it.
Wonder what'll happen next."

Commissioner Jackson himself came to the door.

"What was that fire, lieutenant?" he demanded. He noticed Michaels.

"And what have we here?" He drew his head back a little, frowning.

Don interrupted. "Are you Commissioner Jackson?"

"Yes. But----"

"Good! Here, take this." Don shoved the book out. "And let's go into
your office."

Benton Jackson looked incredulously at the figure before him. He
reached out and accepted the book