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“Sh-sh!” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She ceased wriggling. She stopped her whimpering. He allowed her to free her mouth. She said breathlessly, “They were right behind me. Two men. They must have seen you and run off.”

Gosseyn considered that. Like all the happenings in spacetime, this one was packed with unseen and unseeable factors. A young woman, different from all the other young women in the universe, had come ru

“I’m unprotected,” came the husky answer. “I lost my job last week because I wouldn’t go out with the boss. And I had no savings. My landlady put me out this morning when I couldn’t pay my rent.”

Gosseyn said nothing. Her explanation was so feeble that he couldn’t have spoken without effort. After a moment, he wasn’t so sure. His own story wouldn’t sound any too plausible if he should ever make the mistake of putting it into words. Before committing himself to the possibility that she was telling the truth, he tried one question. “There’s absolutely no place you can go?”

“None,” she said. And that was that. She was his charge for the duration of the games. He led her unresisting out onto the sidewalk, and, carefully avoiding the corner, into the road.

“We’ll walk on the center white line,” he said. “That way we can watch the corners better.”

The road had its own dangers, but he decided not to mention them.

“Now, look,” Gosseyn went on earnestly, “don’t be afraid of me. I’m in a mess, too, but I’m honest. So far as I am concerned, we’re in the same predicament, and our only purpose right now is to find a place where we can spend the night.”

She made a sound. To Gosseyn it seemed like a muffled laugh, but when he whirled on her, her face was averted from the nearest street light and he couldn’t be sure. She turned a moment later to face him, and he had his first real look at her. She was young, with thin but heavily ta

The vacant lot, when they came opposite it, made Gosseyn pause thoughtfully. It was dark, and there was brush scattered over it. It was an ideal hiding place for marauders of the night. But, looked at from another angle, it was also a possible shelter for an honest man and his protegee, provided they could approach it without being seen. He noticed after a brief survey that there was a back alley leading to the rear of the vacant lot, and a space between two stores through which they could get to the alley.

It took ten minutes to locate a satisfactory patch of grass under a low, spreading shrub.

“We’ll sleep here,” Gosseyn whispered.

She sank down. And it was the wordlessness of her acquiescence that brought the sudden realization that she had come with him too easily. He lay thoughtful, eyes narrowed, pondering the possible dangers.

There was no moon, and the darkness under the overhanging bush was intense. After a while, a long while, Gosseyn could see the shadowlike figure of her in a splash of dim light reflections from a distant street lamp. She was more than five feet from him, and all those first minutes that he watched her she didn’t move perceptibly. Studying the shadow shape of her, Gosseyn grew increasingly conscious of the unknown factor she represented. She was at least as unknown as he himself. His speculation ended as the young woman said softly, “My name is Teresa Clark. What’s yours?”

What indeed? Gosseyn wondered. Before he could speak, the girl added, “Are you here for the games?”

“That’s right,” said Gosseyn.

He hesitated. It was he who ought to be asking the questions.

“And you?” he said. “Are you here for the games, too?”

It took a moment to realize that he had propounded a leading question. Her answer was bitter-voiced. “Don’t be fu

Gosseyn was silent. There was a humility here that embarrassed him. The girl’s personality was suddenly clearer: a twisted ego that would shortly reveal a complete satisfaction with itself. A car raced past on the near-by street, ending the need for comment. It was followed rapidly by four more. The night was briefly alive with the thrum of tires on pavement. The sound faded. But vague echoes remained, distant throbbing noises which must have been there all the time but which now that his attention had been aroused became apparent.



The young woman’s voice intruded; she had a nice voice, though there was a plaintive note of self-pity in it that was not pleasant. “What is all this games stuff, anyway? In a way, it’s easy enough to see what happens to wi

Gosseyn was noncommittal. “Personally,” he said, “I think I’ll be satisfied with the presidency.”

The girl laughed. “You’ll have to go some,” she said, “to beat the Hardie gang.”

Gosseyn sat up. “To beat whom?”he asked.

“Why, Michael Hardie, president of Earth.”

Slowly, Gosseyn sank back to the ground. So that was what Nordegg and the others at the hotel had meant. His story must have sounded like the ravings of a lunatic. President Hardie, Patricia Hardie, a palatial summer home at Cress Village-and every bit of information in his brain about that absolutely untrue.

Who could have planted it there? The Hardies?

“Could you,” came Teresa Clark’s voice slowly, “teach me how to win some minor job through the games?”

“What’s that?” In the darkness Gosseyn stared at her. His astonishment yielded to a kindlier impulse. “I don’t see how it could be done,” he said. “The games require knowledge and skill integrated over a long period. During the last fifteen days, they require such flexibility of understanding that only the keenest and most highly developed brains in the world can hope to compete.”

“I’m not interested in the last fifteen days. If you reach the seventh day, you get a job. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“The lowest job competed for in the games,” Gosseyn explained gently, “pays ten thousand a year. The competition, I understand, is slightly terrific.”

“I’m pretty quick,” said Teresa Clark. “And I’m desperate. That should help.”

Gosseyn doubted it, but he felt sorry for her.

“If you wish,” he said, “I’ll give you a very brief resume.”

He paused. She said quickly, “Please go on.”

Gosseyn hesitated. He felt foolish again at the thought of talking to her on the subject. He began reluctantly, “The human brain is roughly divided into two sections, the cortex and the thalamus. The cortex is the center of discrimination, the thalamus the center of the emotional reactions of the nervous system.” He broke off. “Ever been to the Semantics building?”

“It was wonderful,” said Teresa Clark. “All those jewels and precious metals.”

Gosseyn bit his lip. “I don’t mean that. I mean the picture story on the walls. Did you see that?”

“I don’t remember.” She seemed to realize she was not pleasing him. “But I saw the bearded man—what’s his name?—the director?”