Maggie suppressed a smile. "Don't be frightened, Ben. This is Simon--Simple Simon, we call him. His I. Q. isn't too high, but he makes a good helper and guard for me. He's been so anxious to see you, but I thought it'd be better if he waited until you were well." Ben nodded, fascinated by the apparent muscular solidity of the creature. It hadn't occurred to his numbed mind that he and Maggie were not the sole occupants of the dome. But Maggie had acted wisely, he thought. His nightmares had been terrifying enough without bringing Simple Simon into them. "Shake hands with Ben," she told the Venusian. Simple Simon lumbered forward, then paused. His eyes blinked. "No," he grated. Maggie gasped. "Why, Simple Simon, what's the matter?" The gray creature rasped, "Ben--he not one of us. He thinks--different. In thoughts--thinks escape. Earth." * * * * * Maggie paled. "He _is_ one of us, Simon." She stepped forward and seized the Venusian's arm. "You go to your room. Stand guard. You guard Ben just like you guard me. Understand?" Simple Simon grunted, "I guard. If Ben go--I stop him. I stop him good." He raised his huge hands suggestively. "No, Simon! Remember what Jacob told you. We hurt no one. Ben is our friend. You help him!" The Venusian thought for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I help Ben. But if go--stop." She led the creature out of the room and closed the door. "Whew," Ben sighed. "I'd heard those fellows were telepaths. Now I _know_." Maggie's trembling hands reached for a cigarette. "I--I guess I didn't think, Ben. Venusians can't really read your mind, but they see your feelings, your emotions. It's a logical evolutionary development, I suppose. Auditory and visual communication are difficult here, so evolution turned to empathy. And that's why Jacob keeps a few Venusians in our group. They can detect any feeling of disloyalty before it becomes serious." Ben remembered Simple Simon's icy gaze and the way his rough hand had gripped his heat pistol. "They could be dangerous." "Not really. They're as loyal as Earth dogs to their masters. I mean they wouldn't be dangerous to anyone who's loyal to us." Silently, she helped him back to his bed. "I'm sorry, Maggie--sorry I haven't decided yet." She neither answered nor looked at him. Grimly, he realized that his status had changed. He was no longer a patient; he was a prisoner. A Venusian day passed, and a Venusian night. The dust swirled and wind blew, as constant as the whirl of indecision in Ben's mind. Maggie was patient. Once, when she caught him gazing at Jacob's photo, she asked, "Not yet?" He looked away. "Not yet." * * * * * He learned that the little dome consisted of three rooms, each shaped like pieces of a fluffy pie with narrow concrete hallways between.