"We're putting on a security silence on the space resonators," replied Cauldron. "Why?" "Whether they think Bronson insane or not, whether he lives or dies, we must see that there are as many bits of radioisotopic phosphor in Earth One as possible." "Yes, but--" "Bronson may be judged insane. However, give him a chance and he will demonstrate the space resonator. If he should pick up an Earth Two broadcast or even a molecular pattern it will lend weight to his tale. On the other hand, Bronson will be given credit--sane or otherwise--for the invention of a new level of communication. "When it becomes known that gross matter can be shipped across space with the same scientific concept people will rush madly to develop and build delivery sets." "I get it." "Sure," replied Cauldron. "It's easy enough. Tell Virginia--" "She's gone already. She left to take care of Bronson." "Oh blast! Look, Moray, how are people dressed there?" "Why--I wouldn't know. Bronson was in pajamas when I intercepted him and it's just barely morning now. I've not really been out yet." "You should have taken time to get Virginia fixed up as close to one of the women of this world as possible." "Why?" "Because she'll be less conspicuous," said Bronson. "If they get to peering into Bronson's mind they'll come to the conclusion that he isn't as mad as his tale sounds. Give them one overly-conspicuous character to look at and they will definitely begin to think loud thoughts." "Well, why shouldn't Virginia get along?" demanded Moray. "You're a young squirt," snapped Cauldron shortly. "You weren't around before the blow-up. You haven't the vaguest idea of how much time and hard money was spent by women on the luxury of appearing beautiful. That has been curtailed on Earth Two by necessity and emergency. But I'll bet a tall hat that they are still shelling out plenty there. Is there a telephone book handy?" "Yeah," said Moray. "Then crack it to the classified section and tell me how many pages there are of beauty shops, beauty salons, beauticians, or whatever they're called." Silence ensued for several minutes and then Peter Moray returned and gave Cauldron the answer. "You see?" replied Cauldron. "You have no idea of how life is lived when there is no cause for fear." "So--" "So I'd feel better if Virginia were heading for that place in something better than a hand-made dress of reclaimed cloth, a self-done hairdo and flat-heeled slippers. Besides," he chuckled wryly, "it would help her morale no end." Harry Maddox turned from the hapless spectacle of Ed Bronson and shrugged. "He's safe," he said. "Now what?..." * * * * * "They've gone into a security silence," said Kingston. "As we expected." "Then our friend Bronson is no longer needed?" "Nope. They'll get along without him, now. What worries me is that the psychiatrist may get to work on Bronson long enough to establish a reasonable doubt in their minds."