One of the psychiatrists spoke up. "I trust you won't disturb the patient, Mr. Malone," he said. "Sir Kenneth," Malone snapped. The psychiatrist looked both abashed and worried. "I'm sorry," he said doubtfully. Malone nodded. "That's all right," he said. "I'll try not to disturb Her Majesty unduly." The psychiatrists conferred. When they came out of the huddle one of them--Malone was never able to tell them apart--said: "Very well, we'll let you handle it. But we will be forced to interfere if we feel you're--ah--going too far." Malone said: "That's fair enough, gentlemen. Let's go." He opened the door. It was a magnificent room. The whole place had been done over in plastic and synthetic fibers to look like something out of the Sixteenth Century. It was as garish, and as perfect, as a Hollywood movie set--which wasn't surprising, since two stage designers had been hired away from color-TV spectaculars to set it up. At the far end of the room, past the rich hangings and the flaming chandeliers, was a great throne, and on it Her Majesty was seated. Lady Barbara reclined on the steps at her feet. Malone saw the expression on Her Majesty's face. He wanted to talk to Barbara--but there wasn't time. Later, there might be. Now, he collected his mind and drove one thought at the Queen, one single powerful thought: _Read me! You know by this time that I have the truth_--_but read deeper!_ The expression on her face changed suddenly. She was smiling a sad, gentle little smile. Lady Barbara, who had looked up at the approach of Sir Kenneth and his entourage, relaxed again, but her eyes remained on Malone. "You may approach, my lords," said the Queen. Sir Kenneth led the procession, with Sir Thomas and Sir Andrew close behind him. O'Connor and Gamble came next, and bringing up the rear were the four psychiatrists. They strode slowly along the red carpet that stretched from the door to the foot of the throne. They came to a halt a few feet from the steps leading up to the throne, and bowed in unison. "You may explain, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "Your Majesty understands the conditions?" Malone asked. "Perfectly," said the Queen. "Proceed." Now the expression on Barbara's face changed, to wonder and a kind of fright. Malone didn't look at her. Instead, he turned to Dr. O'Connor. "Dr. O'Connor, what are your plans for the telepaths who have been brought here?" He shot the question out quickly, and O'Connor was caught off-balance. "Well--ah--we would like their cooperation in further research which we--ah--plan to do into the actual mechanisms of telepathy. Provided, of course--" He coughed gently--"provided that they become--ah-- accessible. Miss--I mean, of course, Her Majesty has already been a great deal of help." He gave Malone an odd look. It seemed to say: _What's coming next?_