the radiation-damaged body of Martin Stanton had had no resistance
of that kind. It had long been known that deep-penetrating ionizing
radiation had that effect on an organism. The ability to resist was
weakened, almost destroyed.

With Martin Stanton's body--perhaps--the process might work.

So Bartholomew Stanton, who had become Martin's legal guardian after the
death of their mother, had given permission for the series of operations
that would rebuild his crippled brother.

The telepathic link, of course, had to be shut off--for a time, at
least. If it remained intact, Martin would never be able to think for
himself, no matter what was done to his body. Part of that cutting-off
process could be done during the treatment of Martin--but only if
Bartholomew would co-operate. He had done his part. He had submitted to
deep hypnosis, and had allowed himself to be convinced that his name was
Stanley Martin, to think of himself as Stanley Martin. The Martin name
was one that the real Martin's mind would reject utterly. That mind
wanted nothing to do with anything named Martin.

"Stanley Martin," then, had gone out to the asteroids. In his mind had
been implanted the further instructions that he was not to return to
Earth nor to attempt to investigate the Nipe under any circumstances.
The simple change of name and environment had been just enough to snap
the link during a time when Martin's brain had been inactivated by cold
therapy and anesthetics.

Only the sense of identity had remained. The patient was still
"Bart"--but now he was being forced to think for himself.

Mannheim had used them both, naturally. Colonel Mannheim had the ability
to use anyone at hand, including himself, to get a job done.

Stanton looked at his watch. It was almost time.

Mannheim had sent for "Stanley Martin" when the time had come for him to
return in order to give the Nipe data that he would be sure to
misinterpret. A special series of code phrases in the message had
released "Stanley Martin" from the hypnotic suggestions that had held
him for so long. He knew now that he was Bartholomew Stanton.

_And so do I_, thought the man by the window. _We have a lot to
straighten out, we two._

There was a knock at the door.

Stanton walked over and opened it, trying not to think.

It was like looking into a mirror.

"Hello, Bart," he said.

"Hello, Bart," said the other.

In that instant, complete telepathic linkage was restored. In