mere thought of revealing to any out-time dweller the secret ability
of her race to pass to other time-lines, or even the existence of
alternate lines of probability. "And if I took one of the
old-fashioned trance-recalls, I'd blat out everything; I wouldn't be
able to keep a thing back. And I even know the principles of
transposition!" She looked at him, aghast.

"When I get back, I'm going to put a recommendation through department
channels that this whole sector be declared out of bounds for all
paratime-transposition, until you people at Rhogom Foundation work
out the problem of discarnate return to the First Level," he told her.
"Now, have you any notes or anything you want to take back with you?"

She rose. "Yes; just what's on the desk. Find me something to put the
tape spools and notebooks in, while I'm getting them in order."

He secured a large game bag from under a rack of fowling pieces, and
held it while she sorted the material rapidly, stuffing spools of
record tape and notebooks into it. They had barely begun when the door
slid open and Olirzon, who had gone outside, sprang into the room, his
pistol drawn, swearing vilely.

"They've double-crossed us!" he cried. "The servants of Starpha have
turned on us." He holstered his pistol and snatched up his
submachine-gun, taking cover behind the edge of the door and letting
go with a burst in the direction of the lifter tubes. "Got that one!"
he grunted.

"What happened, Olirzon?" Verkan Vall asked, dropping the game bag on
the table and hurrying across the room.