Caution: The essence of murder never changes. In every era it remains the conflict of the killer against society with the victim as the prize. And the ABC of conflict with society remains constant. Be audacious, be brave, be confident and you will not fail. Against these assets society can have no defense.

Geoffry Reich

Reich leafed through the plans slowly, filled with admiration for the first of his line who had had the fore-thought to prepare for every possible emergency. The plans were out-dated but they kindled imagination; and ideas began forming and crystallizing to be considered, discarded, and instantly replaced. One phrase caught his attention:

If you believe yourself a natural killer, avoid planning too carefully. Leave most to your instinct. Intellect may fail you, but the killer instinct is invincible.

“The killer instinct,” Reich breathed. “By God, I’ve got that.”

The phone chimed once and then the automatic switched on. There was a quick chatter and tape began to stutter out of the recorder. Reich strode to the desk and examined it. The message was short and deadly:

CODE TO REICH: REPLY WWHG.

“WWHG. ‘Offer refused.’ ”

“Refused! REFUSED! I knew it!” Reich shouted. “All right, D’Courtney. If you won’t let it be merger, then I’ll make it murder.”

2

AUGUSTUS TATE, E.M.D. 1, received Cr. 1,000 per hour of analysis… not a high fee considering that a patient rarely required more than an hour of the doctor’s devastating time; but it placed his income at Cr. 8,000 a day or well over Cr. 2 million a year. Few people knew what proportion of that income was paid into the Esper Guild for the education of other Telepaths and the furthering of the Guild’s Eugenic plan to bring Extra Sensory Perception to everyone in the world.

Augustus Tate knew, and the 95% he paid was a sore point with him. Consequently, he belonged to “The League of Esper Patriots,” an extreme right-wing political group within the Guild, dedicated to the preservation of the autocracy and incomes of the upper grade Espers. It was this membership that placed him in Ben Reich’s BRIBERY (POTENTIAL) category. Reich marched into Tate’s exquisite consultation room, glanced once at Tate’s tiny frame — a figure slightly out of proportion but carefully realigned by tailors. Reich sat down and grunted: “Peep me quick.”

He glared in concentration at Tate while the elegant little peeper examined him with a glittering eye and spoke in quick bursts: “You’re Ben Reich of Monarch. Ten billion credit firm. Think I should know you. I do. You’re involved in a death struggle with the D’Courtney Cartel. Right? You’re savagely hostile toward D’Courtney. Right? Offered merger this morning. Coded message: YYJI TTED RRCB UUFE AALK QQBA. Offer refused. Right? In desperation you have resolved to—” Tate broke off abruptly.

“Go ahead,” Reich said.

“To murder Craye D’Courtney as the first step in taking over his cartel. You want my help… Mr. Reich, this is ridiculous! If you keep on thinking like this, I’ll have to commit you. You know the law.”