That one minor point continued to worry him at times. * * * * * And then the destroyer dropped out of the sky onto Sahara Base, and Guy Maynard stooped to pick up a handful of the soil of Terra. He shook it in the sky and rubbed it into his hands. He smelled of it and exhaled deeply. Then, still holding a bit of it, he faced the sector commander who was waiting for him in the command car. The commander smiled curtly and said: "Junior Executive Maynard, you are to speak to no one. You are technically not under arrest, nor are you to be placed in that light. However a violation of the order to discuss nothing with anyone will lead to arrest." "How long is this quarantine going to last, sir?" "Not too long. The Board of Investigation will convene tomorrow. At that time we will decide your future." Maynard entered the command car and they drove off silently. He was thinking: One more hurdle. If I can make it-- His dreams were troubled that night. There was nothing definite about them; they were kaleidoscopic in nature and Charalas whirled in and out of them along with Greggor of the Bureau of Exploration and Laura Greggor. In these dreams he was the central figure; a pitiful, unarmed being that could not strike back against the pointed questions that they hurled at him. He was mired in a black mess of intrigue that would follow him forever. And only by living in constant guardedness would he be safe. For once the hurdle of the investigation was passed, there would be no recanting. God help him if after he perjured himself they found out that his tale had been designed to cover a definite breach of his own oath. It was the price he would pay for the success that Ertene's science would bring him. Yet he knew that if he continued as he had started, he would be all right. To be convincing in a lie, he knew that the first problem was to convince himself. And so Guy Maynard went into the Board of Investigation almost self-convinced that his year of loneliness was a fact. He didn't dare consider the future if he failed to convince the Board. Not only for himself, but for Ertene and Terra both. They--he dropped the awful possibility there. He stiffened his resolve and thrust the thought from his mind. There must be no slip. So with a part of his mind fighting to keep from viewing utter chaos, and another part of his mind telling him that he was hiding his head in the sand like an ostrich, Guy Maynard entered the large room with the silent, waiting men. He swallowed deeply as he noted the weight of the platinum braid and he took his appointed position with a qualm of misgiving. VI.