Turpan, fettered like a common criminal, lay upon his couch in the tent where he had sat not long ago, a conqueror. The powerful floodlight that shone in his face did nothing to sooth his raw temper. Someone entered the tent and he strained in his bonds to see who it was. Stephen came and stood over him. Turpan licked his dry lips. "What time is it?" he asked. "It is almost midnight. They have destroyed your rifle, but it has been decided that, in view of your predatory nature, it would be dangerous to release you again upon this colony. Are you prepared to meet your fate?" Turpan sneered. "Destroy me, fool--eunuch! It will not change your lot here. You will remain an untouchable--an odd man out. May your books comfort your cold bed for the rest of your life. I prefer death." Stephen removed the hypodermic needle from the kit which they had furnished him and filled it. He bared Turpan's arm. The muscles of that arm were tense, like cords of steel. Turpan was lying. He was frightened of death. Stephen smiled a little. He looked a good deal younger when he smiled. "Please relax," he said. "I am only a biological technician; not an executioner." * * * * * Two hours later Stephen emerged from the tent, perspiring, and found that the revel in the encampment continued unabated even at this time of morning. Few suspected what had been going on in Turpan's tent. These few now anxiously awaited his verdict. "How did it go?" the former Planner of Flight One asked. "Was--the equipment satisfactory? The drugs and chalones sufficient?" He nodded wearily. "The character change appears to have been complete enough. The passivity will grow, of course." A group of men and women were playing a variety of hide-and-seek, with piercing shouts and screams, among the shadows of the tents, and it was no child's game. "Don't worry about them," the Planner said. "They'll be over it in the morning. Most of them have never had anything to drink before. Our dictator's methods may have been cruder than we intended, but they've certainly broken the ice." "When will we see--Turpan?" someone asked. It was Ellen. Stephen had not known that she was waiting. "Any moment now, I believe," he said. "I will go in and see what is keeping him." He returned in a few seconds. "A matter of clothing," he said with a smile. "I warned you that there would be a complete character change." The garments were supplied. Stephen took them in. The floodlight had been turned off now, and it was fairly dark in the tent. "Hurry up," Stephen said gently. "I can't--I cannot do it!" "Oh, but you can. You can start all over now. Few of the colonists ever knew you by sight. I am sure that you will be warmly enough received." Stephen came out. Ellen searched his face. "It will not be much longer now," he told her. "And to think that I doubted you!" "I am only a technician," he said.