Her shoulders drooped wearily. She stared across the room. It was as bare as a prison cell, which intrinsically it was. There was a glass on the washbasin. It was made of heavy metal, with no sharp edges. Did Nuwell think she would commit suicide? Not as long as she knew Dark was alive! Her mind touched the glass. It quivered. It tilted and fell to the floor with a clang. She looked at it with mild curiosity as it rolled into a corner. She hadn't done that for a long time, not since she suppressed it because of Nuwell's hatred of witchcraft. It was telekinesis. She had had the power since she was a child. It seemed that she remembered using it often, and in rather startling ways, when she was a small child with the Martians. But when she went to Earth, she gradually stopped playing with it, except in small ways when she was alone, because it seemed to make her elders very uncomfortable. Telekinesis was ESP. It did not mean that she had any other ESP powers. But there was her experience in the copter.... Her mind reached out. At once, like a shock, she was in contact with Dark. His mind turned to hers at once. Dark: _Maya! Where are you?_ Maya: _Come into my room, darling. I'm at the Canfell Hydroponic Farm. Are you still at Ultra Vires?_ Dark: _No, I'm in the vats below you. I knew you were here, but I didn't know where. I can see your room now, though, and its place in the building._ Maya: _Can you free me?_ Dark: _Not now. There are four Toughs outside your door, guarding it. I can't attack them without arousing the Masters. Soon, though._ Maya: _I don't know how I'm doing this. I didn't know I had telepathic powers._ Dark: _A good many people have them, potentially. They don't have to have been "changed," as I was. But they usually require development._ Maya: _I'm just glad I can, to know that you're here._ Dark: _Maya, why are you in pain?_ Maya: _Nuwell has been whipping me, to try to get me to recant on my expressions of support for the rebel cause._ There was a white-hot explosion in her brain that almost literally seared her mind. Staggered at its impact, she recognized it as the explosion of Dark's sudden anger. Then she was no longer in contact with him. A hundred feet away, in another room, Nuwell pulled on a pair of black gloves and picked up a short, thick-lashed whip. Coiling the whip, he stepped out into the corridor, and turned toward Maya's room. He met Placer, walking in the opposite direction. "You're going to make your last try, now?" asked Placer. "Yes," replied Nuwell. "I hope it works. Actually, her spirit and quick wit are among the reasons I like the girl. But I don't intend to be defied in this." He proceeded on down the hall. As he started past the barred gate to one of the ramps leading down into the vats below, the buzzer beside it sounded. A Jelly was standing behind the gate, fat, pathetic face pressed against the bars. Nuwell stopped. No one else was in sight in the corridor.