“Linc!”

A call far off. Directionless.

“Lincoln.”

It could wait a second. That amazing image of Reich had to—

“Lincoln Powell! This way, you fool!”

“Mary?”

“I can’t find you.”

“Be out in a few minutes.”

“Linc, this is the third time I’ve tried to locate you. If you don’t come out now, you’re lost.”

“The third time?”

“In three hours. Please, Linc… While I’ve got the strength.”

He permitted himself to wander upward. He could not find upward. The timeless, spaceless chaos roared around him. The image of Barbara D’Courtney appeared, now a caricature of the sexual siren.

“Hi spook.”

“Lincoln, for the love of God!”

In momentary panic, he plunged in any direction until his peeper training reasserted itself. Then the Withdrawal Technique went into automatic operation. The blocks banged down in steady sequence; each barrier a step backward toward the light. Halfway up, be sensed Mary alongside him. She stayed with him until he was once more in his living room, seated alongside the urchin, her hands in his. He dropped the hands as though they were red hot.

“Mary, I located the weirdest association with Ben Reich. Some kind of linkage that—”

Mary had an iced towel. She slapped his face with it smartly. He realized that he was shaking.

“Only trouble is… Trying to make sense out of fragments in the Id is like trying to run a qualitative analysis in the middle of a sun…”

The towel flicked again.

“You aren’t working with unit elements. You’re working with ionized particles…” He dodged the towel and stared at Barbara. “My God, Mary, I think this poor kid’s in love with me.”

Image of a cockeyed turtle dove.

“No bidding. I kept meeting myself down there. I—”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Why do you think you refused to send her to Kingston Hospital?” she said. “Why do you think you’ve been peeping her twice a day since you brought her here? Why did you have to have a chaperone? I’ll tell you, Mr. Powell…”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re in love with her. You’ve been in love with her since you found her at Chooka Frood’s.”

“Mary!”

She stung him with a vivid picture of himself and Barbara D’Courtney and that fragment she had peeped days ago… The fragment that had made her turn pale with jealousy and anger. Powell knew it was true.

“Mary, dear…”

“Never mind me. To hell with me. You’re in love with her, and the girl isn’t a peeper. She isn’t even sane. How much of her are you in love with? One tenth? What part of her are you in love with? Her face? Her subconscious? What about the other ninety per cent? Will you love that when you find it? Damn you! I wish I’d let you stay inside her mind until you rotted!” She turned away and began to cry.

“Mary, for the love of—”

“Shut up,” she sobbed. “Damn you, shut up! I… There’s a message for you. From headquarters. You’re to jet for Spaceland as soon as possible. Ben Reich’s there, and they’ve lost him. They need you. Everybody needs you. So why should I complain?”