NEEDLER BY RANDALL GARRETT Illustrated by Emsh "The principal difficulty in the case ... lay in the fact of there being too much evidence. What was vital was over-laid and hidden by what was irrelevant." --Sherlock Holmes [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science Fiction June 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] They just didn't give a damn. The first load of survivors brought back after the Battle of Leymon's Star had been short-circuited somewhere, and they didn't give two hoots whether they lived or died. The same thing happened to the crew of the GSS _Bedevin_ after the skirmish in the Great Rift. The _Bedevin_ was found drifting along, out of control, after having demolished an enemy vessel with a blast of the new _aJ_ guns. It was a case of "the operation was a success, but the doctor died." Or might as well have. The crewmen of the fighting ships were in a state of semicatatonia. The alien ships were burned and blasted out of space, with the exception of those which turned tail and ran. The survivors in the human ships were picked up and taken to Kandoris VI, the Galactic Main Base of the Interstellar Fleet. Fleet Commander Allerdyce hospitalized the men and turned the problem over to the Civilian Research Corps. General Director Eckisster frowned over the whole mess, fired out assignments right and left, and dumped the bulk of the responsibility into the lap of Roysland Dwyn, chief of the Special Weapons Group. Dwyn immediately asked for a specimen from the Fleet Hospital Psychiatric Ward. Bilford, the chief psychometrist, brought one of the crew members from the _Bedevin_ into the office of the head of Special Weapons four days after the survivors had been picked up. Roysland Dwyn glanced up from the work at his desk when Bilford entered. Behind the huge plastic block of the desk, he looked no larger than the average man. It was only when he stood that it became apparent that Roysland Dwyn was two sizes larger than the average man, regardless of where you measured. Bilford walked on into the office. "You wanted to see Captain Gisser, Roysland?" Roysland nodded his massive head. "Bring him in; I want to get the whole picture on this business." Bilford nodded and turned back toward the door. His eyes looked sad and pitying, and he ran a lean, nervous hand through his bushy gray hair as he called out: "All right, Captain Gisser--come in here." * * * * * As Captain Gisser strolled in from the outer office, Roysland watched him carefully.