She understood his unspoken analogy. Less than a million people--less than a hundred telepaths, to maintain communications over the entire planet. Then she thought of something else, said, "My headaches--they're telepathic, aren't they? Caused when my brother has one of his attacks?" "That's right as nearly as we can judge," he told her. "You seem to have an intense sympathetic affinity. It's not unusual between identical telepaths." "And there aren't many of those," she said idly. She looked at him. "How about your brother, Rolf. Isn't he...?" "Unfortunately not," he replied. "He has some tendency toward E.S.P. but insufficiently strong to be reliable." Lynne sensed his thoughts shifting to his brother, then to hers--and was astounded by the depth of dislike he suddenly projected. It came as another shock and she said, "You hate my brother, don't you, Rolf? If you didn't you'd have managed to get him the care he must have to survive." "I don't hate your brother," he said wearily and she realised he spoke the truth. What he felt for Revere Fenlay was the rather arrogant dislike and distrust toward a weaker man that is so frequent among the strong. Lynne resented it, resented him, bitterly. She said, "Then why haven't _you_ replaced him? You're a telepath--why haven't _you_ given him relief?" Again he looked defeated and, with feminine illogic, her heart went out to him. He said, "I wish I could--unfortunately I'm not permitted to go out in the field alone." Annoyed by her heart's betrayal she let herself think, _Ah, an armlounge admiral, a user of men who saves his own skin!_ She watched anger wash defeat from his face, for a moment felt fear at its intensity. Then, without a word, he turned and left her alone in the corridor. She felt a cheap victor as with difficulty she made her way back to her cabin. Nor was her self-esteem lifted when Joanna, sitting up in her bunk, said, "You must be real _zwirch_, Fenlay, if Marcein came for you. He's Communications Integrator for the whole ruddy planet--a real big bomb. How about introducing me before we land?" V To her considerable surprise in view of her emotionally upset condition, Lynne slept like the proverbial top. It took the combined efforts of Joanna and the stewardess to get her awake and up and dressed in time for the landing outside of New Samarkand. After a momentary breathless hovering pause the big ship set itself down so gently there was a hardly perceptible jar as it touched ground. Feeling cumbrous in cold-resistant parkaed coverall and curiously alone despite the cluster of passengers that waited with her in the airlock foyer, Lynne looked about her for Rolf Marcein. She felt a certain residue of guilt for her treatment of him during their last session, despite the justification of her anger. Here, on the threshold of an alien planet--_his_ planet--she needed him.