Mia looked from the Blue Venus to Llana in bewilderment. There didn't seem to be over five years difference in their ages. "It's ... it's impossible!" she blurted out. The Blue Venus smiled enigmatically. Cosmo said: "I thought, Llana, that Sofi was the hold Bemmelman had over you." At mention of the planter's name Llana stiffened. "He'll kill Sofi if I betray him!" Cosmo shook his head. "You haven't any evidence against him," she insisted. "Even if you had, they wouldn't believe the Renegade." "Exactly," said Cosmo. "Answer the telecast, Llana." Her face set. She went to the audio, switched it on. "The Security Patrol is here," came Rabaul's voice. "What shall I do with them?" Llana glanced deadfaced at Cosmo, who said in an undertone: "Tell him to send the Commissioner here. Have his men served with refreshments." She repeated the orders tonelessly into the telecast. "Right," said Rabaul. The instrument went dead. Cosmo went behind the glassite desk, sat down. He leveled his dart gun straight at Natal, the Martian. "Natal," he said in a cold manner. "Bemmelman sold you down the river. He told me you were his spy." The Martian blanched, but his black eyes were hard as marbles. "I should have guessed the pig would betray me." "Get his gun, Big Unse," said Cosmo. The Fozoql catfooted behind the Martian, relieved him of his weapon. "Follow my lead," said Cosmo to Natal, concealing the dart gun up his sleeve. "Because, so help me, if you don't, you're a dead Martian." Natal nodded, stiff faced but willing. Bemmelman groaned, sat up. He regarded the scene in disbelief. Then his little pig eyes narrowed. He didn't say anything and Cosmo ignored him. There was a knock on the door. "That's the Commissioner," said Cosmo. "Let him in, Big Unse." Mia looked wretched, frightened. "No," she said and bit her lip to stifle the rest of the protest. Big Unse slid back the panel. The fat commissioner waddled inside. He was even fatter than he appeared over the visoscreen. He bulged in his clothes like a sausage. "Well, Hal," he began in a hearty voice, "you lucky dog. The fifty thou...." The words stuck in his throat. He stared at the hard faced green eyed man behind the desk, at Bemmelman in irons. He revolved slowly, taking in the silent men about the walls, the three girls. "Wh-what's this?" He sputtered, but there was a sick, frightened look in his eyes. "Where's the Renegade?" "There he is, Commissioner," replied Cosmo dryly. "All done up in irons." He pointed at Bemmelman lying manacled on the sofa. VIII Bemmelman was the first to recover his voice. His neck swelled. He laughed hoarsely. "Nobody's fool enough to believe I'm the Renegade, Cosmo." "You're crazy, young man," the Commissioner burst out as he caught his breath. "If this is a joke, it's in remarkably poor taste." "It's no joke." Cosmo's eyes hardened.