Powell was so upset he spoke aloud. “Well how about that peeper!”

“How about what?”

“Gus Tate was at the Beaumont party the night D’Courtney was killed. He came with Reich, but I kept hoping—”

“Linc, I don’t believe it!”

“Neither did I, but there it is. Little Gus Tate was Reich’s expert. Little Gus laid it out for him. He pumped you and turned his information over to a killer. Good old Gus. What price the Esper Pledge now?”

“What price Demolition!” @kins answered fiercely.

From somewhere inside the house came an announcement from Sally @kins: “Linc. Phone.”

“Hell! Mary’s the only one who knows I’m here. Hope nothing’s happened to the D’Courtney girl.”

Powell loped down a hall toward the v-phone alcove. In the distance he saw Beck’s face on the screen. His lieutenant saw him at the same moment and waved excitedly. He began talking before Powell was within earshot.

“…gave me your number. Lucky I caught you, boss. We’ve got twenty-six hours.”

“Wait a minute. Take it from the top, Jax.”

“Your Rhodopsin man, Dr. Wilson Jordan, is back from Callisto. Now a man of property by courtesy of Ben Reich. I came back with him. He’s on earth for twenty-six hours to settle his affairs, and then he rockets back to Callisto to live on his brand new estate forever. If you want anything from him, you’d better come quick.”

“Will Jordan talk?”

“Would I call you Interplanetary if he would? No, boss. He’s got money-measles. Also he’s grateful to Reich who (I am now quoting) generously stepped out of the legal picture in favor of Dr. Jordan and justice. If you want anything, you’d better come back to Terra and get it yourself.”

“And this,” Powell said, “is our Guild Laboratory, Dr. Jordan.”

Jordan was impressed. The entire top floor of the Guild building was devoted to laboratory research. It was a circular floor, almost a thousand feet in diameter, domed with a double layer of controlled quartz that could give graded illumination from full to total darkness including monochrome light to within one tenth of an angstrom. Now, at noon, the sunlight was modulated slightly so that it flooded the tables and benches, the crystal and silver apparatus, the cover-alled workers with a gentle peach radiance.

“Shall we stroll?” Powell suggested pleasantly.

“I haven’t much time, Mr. Powell, but…” Jordan hesitated.

“Of course not. Very kind of you to give us an hour, but we need you desperately.”

“If it’s anything to do with D’Courtney,” Jordan began.

“Who? Oh yes. The murder. Whatever put that into your mind?”

“I’ve been hounded,” Jordan said grimly.

“I assure you, Dr. Jordan. We’re asking for research guidance, not information on a murder case. What’s murder to a scientist? We’re not interested.”

Jordan unfolded a little. “Very true. You have only to look at this laboratory to realize that.”

“Shall we tour?” Powell took Jordan’s arm. To the entire laboratory he broadcast: “Stand by, peepers! We’re pulling a fast one.”