Vickers said: "B624-1/2 Water Street, level 3. And I won't get the blade too close if we get through without trouble." "But suppose I'm ordered in?" "That's your tough luck." The ISP man was sweating. But he didn't dare remove his hands from the controls. Beadlets of perspiration rolled down his cheeks and chin unheeded. As they approached the roadblock, he touched the siren. At its eerie wail, a man hauled up the net, and the patrol boat slid beneath it. Vickers let his breath escape. He was sweating too, he realized. His forehead felt clammy as a dead fish. They reached the blue door without being bothered, though. Vickers stared at the sign: INTERNATIONAL SPY RING INCORPORATED Secrets Bought and Sold It was the one place in Luna City where the ISP couldn't reach him. But would the ring give him sanctuary? He didn't know. "They will," he thought; "they will, by Heaven, or take the consequences!" He said: "Here's where I leave you, officer. Thanks for the lift," and slid out of the patrol boat. The ISP man had guts. Vickers had taken his automatic, but the agent reached for the emergency guns in the locker. Before he could shoot, though, Vickers had disappeared through the blue door. He sprang from the patrol boat, started after him. He was three feet from the blue door when it vanished. * * * * * Inside the reception room, Vickers balanced on the balls of his feet, the ISP agent's automatic in his hand. His mouth was a thin line. Except for Vickers, the room was empty. He was about to raise his nictitating lids when the door of the inner office opened and Tani flew to meet him. Involuntarily, he jerked up the automatic, but the girl didn't even notice it. "Clyde!" she said, and threw her arms about him, clinging desperately as if she were afraid to turn loose. "I've been so afraid." There was a funny little catch in her voice. Vickers stared down at her, refusing to believe his senses. Then she tilted her head back, and he could see the relief and happiness shining in her eyes--and something besides. Vickers kissed her. All his doubts were suddenly swept away and somehow the old hurts along with them. "Mr. Vickers," the receptionist said. He hadn't noticed her enter the room. But he looked up and she was smiling too. There was no repugnance in her eyes. He said: "Yes." "They're waiting to see you, Mr. Vickers. If you'll just step this way." He glanced questioningly at Tani, who nodded. Together they entered Thorpe's office. Fralick was there, looking old and tired and a little messy. He was sitting behind the big desk with Thorpe at his elbow. There were two others in the office, a tall, parchment-faced Chinese, obviously of Manchu descent and an Arab with the features of a Biblical patriarch. They were smiling, all except Thorpe, who couldn't very well with his jaw in a cast.