At the very outset of the Third World War, the expression "take to the hills" had become a reality to many. Afterwards, when a prostrated world had begun painful reconstruction, lone men and women, and sometimes couples, continued to roam through the forests and deserts of Earth. Fugitives from fear in the beginning, many had held to the nomadic existence, liking their new individuality. "He may be a TIC agent in disguise," Nat whispered. "Why not use thy paralysis ray now?" Abby whispered back, "And not take chances." Nat nodded, and silently they crept forward. When they finally were in range, Nat raised his weapon and pressed the stud. The hermit didn't move a muscle. The dancing flames of the fire cast strange shadows over the camp site, reflecting off his shelter half, lighting the coffee pot sitting on a rock. Swiftly, without fear of detection, Nat and Abby strode forward, towards the cave and their escape. As they reached the entrance they heard a derisive laugh. Whirling sharply, they saw the "hermit" rising slowly to his feet, a late 20th century weapon in his hand. Horror stricken, Nat glanced at the paralysis ray in his own hand, the thought flashing across his mind that the tiny atomic battery had given out. "No, your weapon is still good! You just didn't count on our thoroughness!" the man laughed, using the vernacular of Nat's own time. "I've been waiting here a year, while Bor combed the whole area for you." "Lord, Abby!" Nat gasped hoarsely. "They've developed a neutralizing field, something they were experimenting with when I left." The agent laughed coarsely in agreement. "Just come away from the cave while I put in a call to Inspector Bor!" They moved towards the fire, and it was then that the agent got a good look at Abby. His eyes moved slowly from her head to her feet, taking in every detail of her full figure. "Some dish you have there Lyon. I'm beginning to understand why you checked out on us!" Nat was surprised at the agent's obvious lechery. Such animal reaction had been largely overcome by the 24th century. The agent snickered, recognizing Nat's surprise. "You asked for it, Lyon, when you tried to paralyze me! There's still a little problem to be solved in this matter of neutralizing a paralysis ray. Right now I'm morally drunk, haven't an inhibition in the world." He licked his lips. "Come here, girl. I want to see you close up--real close!" Abby had drawn back, horrified, but now she leaned toward Nat and started talking in the ancient Greek they had learned during their honeymoon. "Let me try to seduce him, Nat. Maybe we can get away before Bor gets here!" "What's she mumbling about?" the agent demanded suspiciously. "She's talking Greek," Nat explained. "She doesn't understand the Anglo-oriental combination we speak in the 25th century." The agent's eyes flitted back to Abby, noting her dark hair, her even features, moving hungrily over her figure again.