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ur eyes only to get your attention." The stars disappeared, and Orison heard again the music of the Microfabridae, a singing almost unhearable. "Who's that?" Oriso

n demand

ed, her






voice uncertain. "Don't speak. You'll frighten the guards," the mysterious voice said. "We have had long

association, Orison. It was I who, so close in empathy with you, prevented your eating lobster, for example. Earth's lobster is a distant relative of mine. I could not see you ingest one without feeling deep qualms. And it is to me you have been reading, filling my


end." "And Dink's friend?" "His especially," the voice said. "Our business right now is to help you escape. We must know exactly where you are, Orison." "I'm in


the basement of the National Guard Armory," Orison said softly. "Where are you?" "I'm on the ninth floor of the Bank building," Elder Compassion said. "Yes, that m

wadded up Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing.
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one of the true telepaths, those gold and mighty minds I can hear trumpeting in the night. I can but whisper,

and eavesdrop a bit in minds that let me. And i

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s the fact that I speak within your ear and listen to the currents that make words within your mind so much mo

re mysterious than your pillow that whispers?"

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"Tell me what to do," Orison said. "Look at the entrance of your basement," Elder Compassion said. Orison sta

red at the steel doors at the top of the ramp. "

Yes, Dink. Y

ou're in the

right place

." The inner

voice cease

d for a mome

nt; and into

Orison's mi

nd flashed a

picture of

those doors

seen from ou

tside. An au

tomobile was

parked a do

zen feet fro

m the door.

Dink's car!

Wanji was at

the wheel a

nd Dink, gra

ndly uniform

ed, was besi

de him. A pi

nk, animate

thread dippe

d down from

the trunk of

the Rolls a

nd began wor

in her hand. It looked enti
rely genuine, she thought. I
t was perhaps too perfect for
her purpose. It was quite poss
ible that this bill could
be established as a counterf
eit only by the unlikely dis
covery of a genuine note wit
h the same serial-number
. The paper-makers and
chemists of Chilif, the e
ngraving millions of M
icrofabridae, had done t
heir work too well.
Suddenly, across Orison
's field of regard the
re danced dozens of brilli
ant, five-pointed stars—o
ver the weapons-carrie
rs and the tanks, the
jeeps and the two loll
ing guards, the concrete
floor and the steel d
oors. Orison rubbed the
heels of her hands into
her eyes, but the stars
were still there. "Don
't worry," someone s
aid. "I painted the st
ars on the backs of yo
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