She crossed to the bunk. From beneath it, she dragged the small overnight bag she had succeeded in obtaining from the ship before it had left for the next planet. She began to go about the room, collecting the few odds and ends she possessed and packing them. She was fingering the bristles of her toothbrush for dampness when she heard returning footsteps. _The hell with brushing my hair_, she thought. _I'll go as is._ She threw the toothbrush into the bag, tossed her hairbrush on top, and snapped the catch. She considered herself ready. The door opened and the warden ushered another man into the cell. Maria felt a sudden chill. The newcomer was a Greenie. She looked over his shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of the Terran consul, but there were just the two Greenies facing her. The stranger was nearer in age to the young guard than to the warden. On the other hand, the severity of his expression was a challenge to the older man. The uniform was about the same. "My name is John Willard," he announced flatly. He reached into an inner pocket to produce a fold of papers. At the edge of one, Maria caught sight of what she guessed to be an official seal. Willard opened the papers and turned to the warden. "You identify the prisoner before us as one Maria Ringstad, native of Terra?" "I do!" said the warden, righteously. "You will please sign this statement to that effect!" There was silence in the cell as the warden held the document against the door to scribble his signature. Maria watched in growing chagrin. Willard folded the statement of identification, returned it to his pocket, and faced her. "Maria Ringstad," he said, "I am to inform you that your appeal has been denied. You will accompany me to Corrective Farm Number Five, where I will deliver you to the authorities who will supervise the serving of your sentence." Maria dropped her bag. "_What?_ You're lying! Let me see those phony papers! This is some sort of--" Willard let her have the back of his left hand across the face. Maria never saw it until she was falling. She sat down with a thump, her legs stretched out straight before her. Unbelievingly, she watched Willard sign a copy of his order for the warden. The latter examined it with satisfaction before tucking it away. They turned to look down at her, and Willard announced that he was ready to leave. He seemed to think that a good way to forestall an argument was to get her moving as quickly as possible. He yanked on one elbow, the warden pulled on the other, and Maria headed for the door at a smart trot, wondering how she had risen. "My bag!" she protested. "I have it," said Willard. "Turn left for the stairs," said the warden. "I'm not going!" she yelled. "Yes, you are," said Willard. "Yes, you are!" echoed the warden.