"Why? Just because she's got a face and a shape?" the fat man sneered. "There are thousands of women as good-looking as she is, but I've got only one life--" Graves broke off as Fairchild entered the office. "Well, how about it? How bad is it?" the manager asked. "Not bad at all. Everything's under control." "Listen, Doctor Fairchild!" Ryder put in, desperately, "surely you don't have to murder Jackie here in cold blood. I was just suggesting to Graves that he could get a therapist--" "Shut up," the scientist ordered coldly. "Our therapists are working on things that are really important. You two must die." "But why?" Ryder protested wildly. He could not as yet perceive more than a small fraction of the whole. "I tell you, it's--" "We'll let you guess," said Fairchild. * * * * * Shock upon shock had been too much for the girl's overstrained nerves. She fainted quietly and Ryder eased her unconscious form down to the cold steel floor. "Can't you put her into a better place than this?" the man protested then. "You'll find water and food, and that's enough." Graves laughed coarsely. "You won't live very long, so don't worry about conveniences. But keep still. If you want to know what is going to happen to you, listen--we have no objections to that--but one more word out of you and I cut the circuit. Go ahead, Fairchild, with what you were saying." "There was a fault in the rock. Small, but big enough to let a little of the fine smoke seep through. He must have been a sniffer before to be able to smell the trace of the stuff that was drifting down the hill. All fixed now, though. I'm having the fault, and any others that may exist, cemented up solid. Death by snake bite will fix our records." "Fair enough. Now, how about these two? There has been some talk of a honeymoon to Chickladoria, but that may have been a blind. Doubles? Disappearance? The vortex? What do you think?" "Um--We've got to hold the risk at minimum." Fairchild pondered for minutes. "We can't disintegrate them, that's sure. We're trying to clear our books of too much of that stuff already. They've got to be found dead, and the quota for the vortex for this period is full. Therefore we'll have to keep them alive and out of sight--where they are is as good a place as any--for a week." "Why alive? We've kept stiffs in storage before now."