eir hands more despotic power,
more real wealth and military might, than any ancient Khan or Caesar
had ever dreamed of.

Did they now want Ann Saymer's patent? The answer, Hunter realized,
was obvious. With Ann's Exorciser, they could enslave the centers of
civilization as they had enslaved the frontier. In itself that was a
minor factor, already accomplished by man's acceptance of the jungle
ethics of the cartels. Far more important, if one of the cartels
controlled the patent, it had a weapon that would ultimately destroy
the other.

With trembling fingers, Hunter took Ann's last micropic from his bag
and rolled the tiny film into a wall-scanner. He could have recited it
by heart; yet, by reading it again, he somehow expected to extract a
new meaning. The code he and Ann used, contrived for economy rather
than secrecy, was merely a telescoping of common phrases into single
word symbols.

IHTKN, at the beginning, was easily interpreted as "I have taken," and
COMJB became "commission-job." The micropic transmission monopoly
arbitrarily limited all code words to five letters or less, counting
additional letters as whole words. But because of the simplicity of
the technique, some of Ann's symbols were open to a number of
interpretations.

Hunter was sure of one thing. Ann had not specifically named the
clinic where she was working. She said she had gone to work for the
biggest--or possibly the symbol meant best--of the private clinics.
Either term could apply to the clinics run by the two cartels; or, for
that matter, to the largest of them all, operated by Eric Young's
union.

But Ann, having invented the Exorciser, would know all its possible
misuses--a factor which had not occurred to Hunter until Dawn spelled
it out for him. Would Ann, then, have been fool enough to let herself
fall into the hands of the cartels?

That line of reasoning gave Hunter new hope. If one of the cartels
tried to trap her, Ann would simply go into hiding. It would
complicate the problem of finding her, but at least he could assure
himself she was safe. Ann had brains to match her ambition. She
couldn't otherwise have earned a First in Psychiatry. No, Hunter was
certain the cartels didn't have her.

The telescreen buzzer gave a plaintive bleep. Hunter jerked down the
response toggle. Surprisingly, the screen remained dark, but Hunter
heard a man's voice say clearly, "You are anxious to find Ann Saymer,
Captain Hunter?"

Apparentl