n dropped into a comfortable, chintz-covered rocking
chair--one relic in this island of time that he really enjoyed. "Will
you tell Mrs. Ames I'm here?" he asked the stranger.

"I'm Mrs. Ames."

"I mean Mrs. _Janice_ Ames--the owner of the house."

The woman smiled woodenly. "You're speaking to her, Captain, though I
must say I don't remember ever having met you before."

"You don't remember--"

Fear clutched at his heart. He sprang up, moving toward her with
clenched fists. "An hour ago I called Mrs. Ames from the spaceport. I
saw her. Here--in this room."

"I've owned this house all my life, Captain." Her expression was more
than good acting. She spoke with utter conviction, and seemed
completely sure of herself. "You must be--" She hesitated and looked
at him sharply. "Have you checked your adjustment index recently?"

"I haven't lost my mind, if that's what you're getting at," he said.
"Where's Ann Saymer?"

"Believe me, please. The name is totally unfamiliar to me." The woman
was painfully sympathetic--and frankly scared. She backed away from
him. "You need help from the clinic, Captain. Will you let me call
them for you?"

Suddenly the light fell full on her face, and Hunter saw the tiny,
still-unhealed scalpel wounds on both sides of her skull. The light
glowed on the microscopic filament of platinum wire clumsily left
projecting through the incision.

He understood, then. This woman was wearing one of Ann's patented
grids, sealed into her cerebral cortex. It made her into a robot,
responding with unquestioning obedience to the direction of Ann's
transmitter. And Hunter had no doubt that United manipulated the
transmission.

Simultaneously he realized something else. If the cartel went to this
extreme to forestall his search for Ann, she must still be alive. For
some reason they still needed her. Possibly her patent drawings had
been submitted for government registry in such a way that only Ann
understood them.

Ann had been through the general school, and knew what the score was.
She would have protected her invention--and incidentally insured her
own survival--if she could have possibly done so, even at a fearful
risk to herself.

Hunter swung toward the door. It did not occur to him to call the
police, since they were all cartel mercenaries. Whatever he did to
help Ann, he would have to do on his own. Until he found her, he could
count on help from Consolidated. After that--nothing.

He jer