"Adam Stone consents to see you. Enter Chief Downport, and welcome."
The little sphere dropped noiselessly to the ground and the wire whispered away into the darkness. A bright arc of narrow light rose from the ground in front of Martel and swept through the city to one of the higher towers—apparently a hostel, which Martel had never entered. Martel plucked his aircoat to his chest for ballast, stepped heel-and-toe on the beam, and felt himself whistle through the air to an entrance window which sprang up before him as suddenly as a devouring mouth.
A tower guard stood in the doorway. "You are awaited, sir. Do you bear weapons, sir?"
"None," said Martel, grateful that he was relying on his own strength.
The guard let him past the check-screen. Martel noticed the quick flight of a warning across the screen as his instruments registered and identified him as a Scanner. But the guard had not noticed it.
The guard stopped at a door. ' 'Adam Stone is armed. He is lawfully armed by authority of the Instrumentality and by the liberty of this city. All those who enter are given warning."
Martel nodded in understanding at the man and went in.
Adam Stone was a short man, stout and benign. His grey hair rose stiffly from a low forehead. His whole face was red and merry looking. He looked like a jolly guide from the Pleasure Gallery, not like a man who had been at the edge of the Up-and-Out, fighting the Great Pain without haberman protection.
He stared at Martel. His look was puzzled, perhaps a little annoyed, but not hostile.
Martel came to the point. "You do not know me. I lied. My name is Martel, and I mean you no harm. But I lied. I beg the Honorable gift °f your hospitality. Remain armed. Direct your weapon against me—"
Stone smiled: "I am doing so," and Martel noticed the small Wire- Point in Stone's capable plump hand.
"Good. Keep on guard against me. It will give you confidence in Wnat I shall say. But do, I beg you, give us a screen of privacy. I want n° casual lookers. This is a matter of life and death."
"First: whose life and death?" Stone's face remained calm, his voice even.
"Yours, and mine, and the worlds'."
"You are cryptic but I agree." Stone called through the doorway: nivacy please."
There was a sudden hum, and all the little noises of ne night quickly vanished from the air of the room.
Said Adam Stone: "Sir, who are you? What brings you here?"
"I am Scanner Thirty-four."
"You a Scanner. I don't believe it."
For answer, Martel pulled his jacket open, showing his chestbox. Stone looked up at him, amazed. Martel explained:
"I am cranched. Have you never seen it before?"
"Not with men. On animals. Amazing! But—what do you want?"
"The truth. Do you fear me?"
"Not with this," said Stone, grasping the Wirepoint. "But I shall tell you the truth."
"Is it true that you have conquered the Great Pain?"
Stone hesitated, seeking words for an answer.
"Quick, can you tell me how you have done it, so that I may believe you?"
"I have loaded the ships with life."
"Life."
"Life. I don't know what the great pain is, but I did find that in the experiments, when I sent out masses of animals or plants, the life in the center of the mass lived longest. I built ships—small ones, of course— and sent them out with rabbits, with monkeys—"
"Those are Beasts?"
"Yes. With small Beasts. And the Beasts came back unhurt. They came back because the walls of the ships were filled with life. I tried many kinds, and finally found a sort of life which lives in the waters. Oysters. Oysterbeds. The outermost oyster died in the Great Pain. The inner ones lived. The passengers were unhurt."
"But they were Beasts?"
"Not only Beasts. Myself."
"You!"
"I came through Space alone. Through what you call the Up-and- Out, alone.
Awake and sleeping. I am unhurt. If you do not believe me, ask your brother Scanners. Come and see my ship in the morning. I will be glad to see you then, along with your brother Scanners. I am going to demonstrate before the Chiefs of the Instrumentality."
Martel repeated his question: "You came here alone?"
Adam Stone grew testy: "Yes, alone. Go back and check your Scanner's register if you do not believe me. You never put me in a bottle to cross space."
Martel's face was radiant. "I believe you now. It is true. No more Scanners. No more habermans. No more cranching."
Stone looked significantly toward the door.
Martel did not take the hint. "I must tell you that—"
"Sir, tell me in the morning. Go enjoy your cranch. Isn't it supposed to be pleasure? Medically I know it well. But not in practice."
"It is pleasure. It's normality—for a while. But listen. The Scanners have sworn to destroy you, and your work."
"What!"
"They have met and have voted and sworn. You will make Scanners unnecessary, they say. You will bring the Ancient Wars back to the world, if Scanning is lost and the Scanners live in vain!"
Adam Stone was nervous but kept his wits about him: "You're a Scanner. Are you going to kill me—or try?"
"No, you fool. I have betrayed the Confraternity. Call guards the moment I escape. Keep guards around you. I will try to intercept the killer."
Mattel saw a blur in the window. Before Stone could turn, the Wire- point was whipped out of his hand. The blur solidified and took form as Parizianski.