"I'm a favorite of one of the Anolyn. I've the run of the temple. Please, please let me inside. I must know. You'll understand much more about Yogol than I could ever tell you." Her last words decided him. He needed information desperately if he were ever to escape. "What shall I do?" he asked in grudging consent. "Will me to enter. Think! Open your mind to me. There's nothing to fear. No need to be suspicious. I'm not an Anolyn. I can't force myself on you...." A dazzling light seemed to burst behind Jupiter's eyes. The girl was in. He could feel her! He was aware of Tabak's mind, questing, probing. His brain pulsed as if he had a violent headache. At the same time, a whole new set of memory patterns, unfamiliar facts, stray incidents and ideas made themselves felt. It was as if a volume of the Encyclopedia Galactica had been up-ended and all the information therein had been poured into his brain helter-skelter with the utmost confusion. Somehow, he knew all that Tabak knew, all that she'd ever felt or seen or heard; but horribly jumbled, meaningless like the scrambled parts of an intricate jig-saw puzzle. He heard her exclaim aloud: "It's true! The Wanderer-from-Beyond!" Then a fear thought: "_I must go! They mustn't find me here!_" He felt her mind withdraw, saw her slip from the temple room, a slim, graceful figure in the shimmering yellow fur cloak--the living sensuous boj. He was too appalled to try to stop her. His mind was like a warehouse of unrelated, unassorted, unassimilated facts. He needed time to incorporate the confusing jumble into intelligible order. Time and contemplation. He was to get neither yet, he saw, for the door opened almost on Tabak's heels, and three of the Anolyns crawled in like fat, purple-shelled snails. * * * * * Jupiter was put through one of the worst ordeals of his life--all the more degrading because it was conducted in contemptuous silence. The Anolyns took immediate possession of his mind. He was made to crawl out of his cage and stand stock still while they examined him like judges at a fat cattle show. From time to time burning mental questions exploded in his brain. Jupiter was enough of a psychologist to know that they were intended to stimulate subconscious memory patterns. He felt as if he'd been thrust into a press and all his information was being squeezed out of him like cider from an apple. But unlike his experience with Tabak, he could learn nothing from them. The Anolyn maintained a perfect mental barrier. In spite of that he began to sense that they regarded him with growing alarm. He could almost feel their control over him tighten. At length he was directed out into the corridor, marched into a tiny bare cell. Not until the door closed on him with a small final click, did the Anolyn remove their control. Jupiter sank white and shaken onto the hard, narrow bunk.