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Lasser barely touched the floor before his consciousness began to return. The resulting fraction of a second of mental static afforded Houston a brief respite; it disturbed Pederson just as he was getting his fingers on the butt of his weapon.

Both Controllers were focusing their mental energies on Houston’s brain, and during the brief respite, Houston made one vital mental adjustment. He allowed both thought-probes to fuse in a small part of his consciousness. They went through him and lashed back at the two Controllers.

Both of them had had their minds tuned to Houston’s, and in that instant they found they, were also attuned to each other.

The resultant of the energy was shocking to Houston, but it was infinitely worse for Sager and Pederson, since neither of them had been expecting it. Pederson, who had already been slightly distracted, got the major brunt of the force. He managed to jerk his gun free, but his brain was already lapsing into unconsciousness.

* * * * *

Houston’s fingers tightened on his own weapon. It fired once at Lasser, who was trying to lift himself from the floor. Then it swept up and coughed again, dropping Pederson. His pistol barked once, sending a singing ricochet along the hall.

Sager, who had staggered to one side when he and Pederson had short-circuited each other, had time to get behind the protection of the office door. He couldn’t close it because Lasser’s and Pederson’s inert forms blocked the doorway, but at least it afforded protection against Houston’s stun gun.

His thought came through to Houston: So the stupid Normals have a Controller working for them! Traitor!

You’re the traitor, Houston thought coldly. You and your megalomaniac friends. It’s madmen like you who have made telepaths hated and feared by the Normals.

And so they should hate and fear us, came the snarling mental answer. Within a few generations, we will have supplanted them. We will control Earth–not they.

* * * * *

The exchange had only taken a fraction of a second. Houston was already charging toward the open door, hoping to get inside before Sager could reach a weapon.

You call me a traitor, Houston thought, but you have been framing innocent Controllers, putting them into the hands of the PD Police.

That’s a lie! the reply came hotly. We would never betray another telepath to the stupid Normals! If a telepath were so bullheaded as to get in our way, we’d dispose of him. But it would be Controller justice; we wouldn’t turn him over to animals!

In one blazing moment, Houston realized that the Controller was telling the truth!

No mental communication can be expressed properly in words. In, behind, and around each statement, other, dimmer nuances of thought gleam through. Each thought tells the receiver much more than can be put down in crude verbal symbols.

Thus, Houston already knew that Lasser, Sager, and Pederson were the three top men in a world-wide clique of megalomaniac Controllers. This was the top of the madmen’s organization; these three were the creme de la creme of the Normal human’s real enemies.

He knew that there were twelve others scattered over Earth, and he knew where and who they were. That brief exchange had brought all the information into Houston’s own mind as it leaked from the minds of the others. He knew it without thinking about how he knew it.

And they were not the ones who had been turning the sane Controllers over to the Psychodeviant Police!

Then who was? And why?

Houston was right back where he had started.

But that brief instant of confusion was Houston’s downfall. Sager instantly realized that he had delivered, inadvertently, a telling blow to Houston’s mind.