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long,staggered, every three feet, with a single hinge-shackle for theankle. The shackles were riveted with soft wrought-iron rivets,evidently made with some sort of a power riveting-machine. We cut themeasily with a cold chisel."

  "They ought to be sent to Dhergabar Equivalent, Police Terminal, forstudy of material and workmanship. Now, you mentioned some scheme youhad for capturing this conveyer that brings in the slaves forNebu-hin-Abenoz. What have you in mind?"

  "We still have Coru-hin-Irigod and all his gang, under hypno. I'dthought of giving them hypnotic conditioning, and sending them back toCareba with orders to put out some kind of signal the next timeNebu-hin-Abenoz starts out on a buying trip. We could have a couple ofmen posted in the hills overlooking Careba, and they could send amessage-ball through to Police Terminal. Then, a party could be sentwith a mobile conveyer to ambush Nebu-hin-Abenoz on the way, and wipeout his party. Our people could take their horses and clothing and goon to take the conveyer by surprise."

  "I'd suggest one change. Instead of relying on visual signals by thehypno-conditioned Coru-hin-Irigod, send a couple of our men to Carebawith midget radios."

  Skordran Kirv nodded. "Sure. We can condition Coru-hin-Irigod toaccept them as friends and vouch for them at Careba. Our boys can betraders and slave buyers. Careba's a market town; traders are alwayswelcome. They can have firearms to sell--revolvers and repeatingrifles. Any Calera'll buy any firearm that's better than the one he'scarrying; they'll always buy revolvers and repeaters. We can get whatwe want from Commercial Four-Oh-Seven; we can get riding and packhorses here."

  Vall nodded. "And the post overlooking or in radio range of Careba onthis time line, and another on PolTerm. For the ambush ofNebu-hin-Abenoz's gang and the capture of the conveyer, use anything youwant to--sleep-gas, paralyzers, energy-weapons, antigrav-equipment,anything. As far as regulations about using only equipment appropriateto local culture-levels, forget them entirely. But take that conveyerintact. You can locate the base time line from the settings of theinstrument panel, and that's what we want most of all."

  Dalla and the police psychist, having finished with and dismissedtheir subject, came over to the long table.

  "... That poor creature," Dalla was saying. "What sort of fiends arethey?"

  "If that made you sick, remember we've been listening to things likethat for the last eight hours. Some of the stories were even worsethan that one."

  "Well, I'd like to use a heat-gun on the whole lot of them, turneddown to where it'd just fry them medium-rare," Dalla said. "And forwhoever's back of this, take him to Second Level Khiftan and sell himto the priests of Fasif."

  "Too bad you're not coming back from your vacation, instead ofstarting out. Chief's Assistant Verkan," Skordran Kirv said. "This istoo big for me to handle alone, and I'd sooner work under you thananybody else Chief Tortha sends in."

  "Vall!" Dalla cried in indignation. "You're not going to just reporton this and then walk away from it, are you?"

  "But, darling," Vall replied, in what he hoped was a convincing showof surprise. "You don't want our vacation postponed again, do you? IfI get mixed up in this, there's no telling when I can get away, and bythe time I'm free, something may come up at Rhogom Institute that youwon't want to drop--"

  "Vall, you know perfectly well that I wouldn't be happy for an instanton the Dwarma Sector, thinking about this--"

  "All right, then; let's forget about the vacation. You want to stay onfor a while and help me with this? It'll be a lot of hard work, butwe'll be together."

  "Yes, of course. I want to do something to smash those devils. Vall,if you'd heard some of the things they did to those poor people--"

  "Well, I'll have to go back to PolTerm, as soon as I'm reasonably wellfilled in on this, and report to Tortha Karf and tell him I've takencharge. You can stay here and help with these interrogations; I'll beback in about ten hours. Then, we can go to Kholghoor East IndiaSecReg HQ to talk to Ranthar Jard. We may be able to get somethingthat'll help us on that end--"

  "You may be able to have your vacation before too long, Dr. Hadron,"Skordran Kirv told her. "Once we capture one of their conveyers, theinstrument panel'll tell us what time line they're working from, andthen we'll have them."

  "There's an Indo-Turanian Sector parable about a snake charmer whothought he was picking up his snake and found that he had hold of anelephant's tail," Vall said. "That might be a good thing to bear inmind, till we find out just what we have picked up."

  ]

  * * * * *

  Coming down a hallway on the hundred and seventh floor of theManagement wing of the Paratime Building, Yandar Yadd paused toadmire, in the green mirror of the glassoid wall, the jaunty angle ofhis silver-feathered cap, the fit of his short jacket, and the way hisweapon hung at his side. This last was not instantly recognizable as aweapon; it looked more like a portable radio, which indeed it was. Itwas, none the less, a potent weapon. One flick of his finger couldconnect that radio with one at Tri-Planet News Service, and within thehour anything he said into it would be heard by all Terra, Mars andVenus. In consequence, there existed around the Paratime Building amarked and understandable reluctance to antagonize Yandar Yadd.

  He glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes short of 1000, when hehad an appointment with Baltan Vrath, the comptroller general.Glancing about, he saw that he was directly in front of the doorway ofthe Outtime Claims Bureau, and he strolled in, walking through thewaiting room and into the claims-presentation office. At once, hestiffened like a bird dog at point.

  Sphabron Larv, one of his young legmen, was in altercation across thecounter-desk with Varkar Klav, the Deputy Claims Agent on duty at thetime. Varkar was trying to be icily dignified; Sphabron Larv's blackhair was in disarray and his face was suffused with anger. He waspounding with his fist on the plastic counter-top.

  "You have to!" he was yelling in the older man's face. "That's apublic document, and I have a right to see it. You want me to go intoTribunes' Court and get an order? If I do, there'll be a Question inCouncil about why I had to, before the day's out!"

  "What's the matter, Larv?" Yandar Yadd asked lazily. "He trying tohold something out on you?"

  Sphabron Larv turned; his eyes lit happily when he saw his boss, andthen his anger returned.

  "I want to see a copy of an indemnity claim that was filed thismorning," he said. "Varkar, here, won't show it to me. What does hethink this is, a Fourth Level dictatorship?"

  "What kind of a claim, now?" Yandar Yadd addressed Larv, ignoringVarkar Klav.

  "Consolidated Outtime Foodstuffs--one of the Thalvan Interestscompanies--just claimed forty thousand P.E.U. for a hundred slavesbought by one of their plantation managers on Third Level Esaron froma local slave dealer. The Paratime Police impounded the slaves fornarco-hypnotic interrogation, and then transposed the lot of them toPolice Terminal."

  Yandar Yadd still held his affectation of sleepy indolence.

  "Now why would the Paracops do that, I wonder? Slavery's anestablished local practice on Esaron Sector; our people have to buyslaves if they want to run a plantation."

  "I know that." Sphabron Larv replied. "That's what I want to find out.There must be something wrong, either with the slaves, or thetreatment our people were giving them, or the Paratime Police, and Iwant to find out which."

  "To tell the truth, Larv, so do I." Yandar Yadd said. He turned to theman behind the counter. "Varkar, do we see that claim, or do I make astory out of your refusal to show it?" he asked.

  "The Paratime Police asked me to keep this confidential," Varkar Klavsaid. "Publicity would seriously hamper an important policeinvestigation."

  Yandar Yadd made an impolite noise. "How do I know that all it woulddo would be to reveal police incompetence?" he retorted. "Look,Varkar; you and the Paratime Police and the Paratime Commission andthe Home Time Line Management are all hired employees of the Home TimeLine public. The public has a right to know what its employees aredoing, and it's my business to s
ee that they're informed. Now, for thelast time--will you show us a copy of that claim?"

  "Well, let me explain, off the record--" the official begged.

  "Huh-uh! Huh-uh! I had that off-the-record gag worked on me when I wasabout Larv's age, fifty years ago. Anything I get, I put on the air ornot at my own discretion."

  "All right," Varkar Klav surrendered, pointing to a reading screen andtwiddling a knob. "But when you read it, I hope you have enoughdiscretion to keep quiet