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Half of the guards wore the insignia of Consolidated Solar Industries and half of United Research, the two titan cartels which were locked in deadly battle for the empire beyond the stars.

The government played it safe, Hunter thought with bitterness, using an equal number of police from each organization. On Earth the pacific balance of commercial power was never disturbed–not, at least, on the surface. The two imperial giants lived side by side in a tactful display of peace.

On the frontier the real conflict raged, fought with all the weapons of treachery and an arsenal of highly refined atomic weapons–the blaster which could tear a man into component elements, and the L-bombs that were capable of turning a young sun into a nova.

The woman passed through the security check with no trouble. The men knew her and made only a perfunctory examination of her cards. But Hunter again had difficulty because of the blaster in his bag. His registered permit carried no weight with the guards. It was not their duty to execute existing law, but to protect their private employers.

However, the Consolidated insignia on Hunter’s jacket made the three Consolidated guards ready to honor his permit. Eventually they persuaded the opposition to pass Hunter into the city, on the ground that the captain’s zero-zero adjustment index indicated that it was safe for him to carry arms.

When Hunter went through the probe, he found the woman waiting for him. During the half-hour ride from the spaceport, he had tried twice to start a conversation with her, and failed. Now, abruptly, her face was animated with interest. She put her arm through his and walked with him to the lift shaft.

“So you got away with it, Captain.” Since it was long-standing fashion, she had trained her voice to sound low-pitched and husky. “I mean, bringing a blaster into center-city.”

“Why all this fuss about a gun?” Hunter asked.

“It’s a new government regulation,” she told him.

“The government doesn’t make the law,” he reminded her. “The cartels do.”

“The last fiscal mental health report showed the percentage of maladjusted–” She laughed throatily. “I wish we’d use words honestly! The survey showed the lunatic percentage is still increasing. The cartels are using that report as an excuse to keep the people unarmed.”

Hunter was regarding her steadily. “Why?” he asked.

“We’re not as content with our world as we’re supposed to be,” she said. “Eric Young can’t keep all of us in line forever. Captain, we could use your blaster. It’s next to impossible to get one these days. I could make it worth your while–“

“It’s registered to me,” Hunter pointed out.

“I’ll change the serial,” was her instant reply. “Your name wouldn’t be involved.”

“No, I want to keep it.”

“To use yourself?”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” he said. “This isn’t the frontier.”

He made the denial vehemently, but deep in his mind he had an uncertain feeling that her guess was right. Earth was not the battle-ground, but it had spawned the conflict. The appearance of peace was a sham. Here the battle was fought with more subtlety, but the objective remained the same.

If Ann Saymer had somehow been caught in the no-man’s-land between the two cartels–It was the first time that thought had occurred to Hunter, and it filled him with a dread foreboding.

The woman sensed his feeling. He saw a smile on her curving lips. She said softly, “So even a spaceman sometimes has his doubts.”

“I left the service this morning,” he said. Suddenly he was telling her all about himself and Ann. It was unwise, perhaps even dangerous. But he had to unburden himself to someone or run the risk of losing his emotional control.

“So now you’ve lost this–this ambitious woman of yours,” she said when he had finished.

“No,” he protested. “I won’t let myself believe that. Once I did–“

“As well as her interesting invention–the Exorciser,” she went on relentlessly. “Have you ever wondered, Captain Hunter, what might happen if the platinum grid was not removed from a patient’s brain?”