licking my lips. "We put him on another operation. He still couldn't cut it. Even though we've got production to meet, we still give as many chances—"

The thought slashed. It grew into a soundless roar.

"Stop it, Jake! Tell them how Amalgamated, under the cloak of liberation, is strangling the Terms with an alien culture. Tell them what a mockery their contract really is! Tell them about that Term you condemned this morning!"

I fought it. Feeling the blood run from my lip, I fought it. I'd seen strong men driven insane by a thoughtcaster within seconds. My stability index was six point three. Damned high. I fought it. I got to my feet. The room reeled. Those damned Term faces. The shining antennae. I stumbled towards the door. The thought became a whiplash of molten fury.

"Uphold that grievance, Jake! Tell them the truth. Admit the standard was impossible to meet—"

I slammed the door. The voice stopped.

My skull was a shattered fly-wheel, a sunburst of agony. I was retching. I stumbled down the corridor to Psych. Fern was there. I was screaming at her. The Guild was here. They had thoughtcasters. My brain was melting. Fern was white-faced. She had a hypo. I didn't feel it. The last thing I saw was the glimmer of tears in her green eyes.

"... the neuron flow." Starza's voice. "No two alike. Like fingerprints. What a pity they can't refine the transmittal waves."

I tried to open my eyes.

"The Guild atomized Solar's plant on Proycon," Carmody's voice said quietly. "It's just a question of time, Dave."

"No," Starza said thoughtfully. "Proycon was a sweatshop. I think maybe they're hinting that our production standards are a trifle rough. Look, his eyelids fluttered. Bet you he takes refuge in amnesia."

"You lose." My voice was an iron groan.

We were in Starza's office. Carmody peered at me with a clinical eye. "I took the liberty of narcosynthesis while you were out, Jake. You told us all about it. How do you feel?"

I told them how I felt, in spades.

"I want my vacation now," I said. "I've accrued seven months. I'm going to Venus," I said.

"Now, now," Starza said. "Mustn't desert the sinking ship, Jake." I shut my eyes. His voice was soothing oil. "Jake, the Guild as a whole doesn't know of this plant. Guild agents are free-lancers, in the full sense of the word. They exercise their own initiative, and only report to Guild HQ when the job is done."

"Then," Carmody said, "if we can find out who—"

"Precisely." Starza's eyes were veiled. "Incidentally, Don, you've been gone the last four days. Why?"

Carmody regarded him steadily. "Recruiting. You knew that."

"Yet you brought back only a dozen Terms."

Carmody drew a slow deep breath. "Word's gotten around, Dave. The tribes have finally forgotten their petty wars and united against a common enemy. Us! Any Term that exhibits undesirable traits of individuality is now destroyed. I think a dozen was a good haul."

"You had the whole planet."

Carmody's grin was diamond hard. "You think maybe I spent a few hours under a Guild mind-control? Is that it?"

Starza said, "On your way out, send Los Tichnat in."

Carmody flushed. "Tichnat's the one and you know it! But if he's not—if you haven't run down the spy by tomorrow—you can accept my resignation. I saw what they left of Proycon."

The door slammed behind him. Starza smiled at me. "What do you think, Jake?"

"Tichnat. The second I got out of there, the thoughtcaster stopped."

"Doesn't mean a thing. They can beam through solid rock. Hundred-foot radius."

"No exploitation," I mused.

"Fanatics," Starza said. "They'd impede the progress of man. Sacrifice man's rightful place in the cosmos for the sake of—crawling things! We'll fight them,