The man in the blue morning coat was forty-three years old. He worked in New York City, the assistant manager of a transportation line's local office. His second wife had grown pregnant by accident, which under law meant they were automatically married for life. They had been married for fifteen years and still didn't know each other. His two sons thought he was a spineless old fool who slept all the time and couldn't give them what they needed. He didn't like his job but he knew it was all he would ever do, an exact definition of his limits. Alone in his house, imprisoned by his work, he smoked and slept and ate without appetite. But now he aimed his rifle and thought, I'll kill the witch. That will be something. I'll know I did that. The two minds were one. Each knew the other's pain, the other's fear. If one died, the other felt his death. Each recognized the other man's hunger, his frustration, his imprisonment within his body and the limits of his life. Sordman felt the weight of their lives. He gathered in the strength he called a gift. His voice and mind, his total self, sang the Liturgy of Joy. He gave his feelings and thoughts. The axe dropped. The finger squeezed the trigger and the bullet cut the bark from a tree. His thoughts became a lullaby, a drowsy murmuring of peace and healing sleep. George and Lee ran from the woods. "Andy! Don't shoot them. Andy!" "Where?" --Here. He wiggled the leaves and branches of the brush. --Here! They stood over the unconscious men. The hunters crept from their hiding spots and joined them. "We'll bring him in," George said. "A psycher team is on the way." --Good. Lee said, "You feel tired, Andy." --I think they get harder. They take more out of me. Lee? "What, Andy?" --It'll never end, will it? He was a young man speaking to an older person. He had seen much of humanity, but there were things only years could tell. "Probably not. Is it too much?" --No. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sordman the Protector, by Tom Purdom