"Don't overplay it," cautioned Dimanche, who had been consistently silent. She leaned forward attentively. He experienced an uneasy moment. Was it possible she had noticed his private conversation? Of course not. Yet-- "Please," she said, and the tone allayed his fears. "There's an emergency situation and I've got to attend to it. Will you go with me?" She smiled understandingly at his quizzical expression. "Travelers Aid is always having emergencies." She was rising. "It's too late to go to the Bureau. My place has a number of machines with which I keep in touch with the spaceport." "I wonder," said Dimanche puzzledly. "She doesn't subvocalize at all. I haven't been able to get a line on her. I'm certain she didn't receive any sort of call. Be careful. This might be a trick." "Interesting," said Cassal. He wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Her habitation was luxurious, though Cassal wasn't impressed. Luxury was found everywhere in the Universe. Huntner women weren't. He watched as she adjusted the machines grouped at one side of the room. She spoke in a low voice; he couldn't distinguish words. She actuated levers, pressed buttons: impedimenta of communication. At last she finished. "I'm tired. Will you wait till I change?" Inarticulately, he nodded. "I think her 'emergency' was a fake," said Dimanche flatly as soon as she left. "I'm positive she wasn't operating the communicator. She merely went through the motions." "Motions," murmured Cassal dreamily, leaning back. "And what motions." "I've been watching her," said Dimanche. "She frightens me." "I've been watching her, too. Maybe in a different way." "Get out of here while you can," warned Dimanche. "She's dangerous." * * * * * Momentarily, Cassal considered it. Dimanche had never failed him. He ought to follow that advice. And yet there was another explanation. "Look," said Cassal. "A machine is a machine. But among humans there are men and women. What seems dangerous to you may be merely a pattern of normal behavior...." He broke off. Murra Foray had entered. Strictly from the other side of the Galaxy, which she was. A woman can be slender and still be womanly beautiful, without being obvious about it. Not that Murra disdained the obvious, technically. But he could see through technicalities. The tendons in his hands ached and his mouth was dry, though not with fear. An urgent ringing pounded in his ears. He shook it out of his head and got up. She came to him. The ringing was still in his ears. It wasn't a figment of imagination; it was a real voice--that of Dimanche, howling: "Huntner! It's a word variant. In their language it means Hunter. _She can hear me!_" "Hear you?" repeated Cassal vacantly. She was kissing him. "A descendant of carnivores. An audio-sensitive. She's been listening to you and me all the time."