No, logically, the Alien would make contact with a human Psi-High, sooner or later. It would not be difficult to keep control of such a contact. The Psi-Highs were very few, numbering in the hundreds, scattered in colonies in the larger cities of the North American States. With painstaking care each one was contacted and warned, and those in Security Service were spotted in the most likely places for the contact they were waiting for. The roads were left free, and the airports and spaceports were not checked. An invisible network of human minds lay across the country, delicately tuned, waiting for the spark of contact. Faircloth was asleep when the call finally came. He rolled groggily out of bed, his heart racing, and groped for the visiphone screen. Ted Marino's face materialized on the silvery curve; a frightened, shaking Marino whose eyes were wide with horror, whose hands jerked nervously as he unsuccessfully tried to control them. His voice was on the thin edge of hysteria. "He hit me, Paul. Just a little while ago." Paul leaned forward, staring at the pale form in the screen. "Ted, are you hurt?" "No, no. But oh, god!" "It couldn't have been just another Psi-High contacting you? It's deadly important, Ted--" Marino shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. It _couldn't_ have been. I've been in Psi-High contact enough to know what it's like. This was different. It was like he'd lifted off my skull and scooped out my brains." Faircloth lit a smoke, trembling. "Did you try to fight it?" The man nodded. "I tried. He was clear in before I knew what had happened, but I tried. I--I think it puzzled him. It didn't do any good at all. He just brushed it aside." "Ted," said Faircloth. "Now listen. Forget about it. Don't write up a report. Don't even think about it. As far as you're concerned, the job is over. Get dressed, and travel south--down to Florida, Rio, any old place, it doesn't matter where, just go. Use an expense account and have yourself the time of your life." Marino's eyes opened in amazement. "Are you crazy? I thought this was what--" "It is. Do what I say and don't worry about it. You're finished on this job. When you've gotten a good rest come back to the Hoffman Center and take up your training with Dr. Abrams where you left off." Paul flipped the switch and turned back to the room, his heart pounding a staccato cadence in his throat. He grinned triumphantly and began to pack his bag. The chase was on, but this time, the mouse was chasing the cat. VI As if a dam had broken, the reports began streaming in. Three more came from Chicago. Then a call came from Cleveland, from a Psi-High technician there who was not remotely connected with the Federal Security Commission. Then from Pittsburgh, then New Philadelphia. Like a fearful, ominous flood the reports of the Alien's contacts swarmed in. And Paul Faircloth and Jean Sanders were ready for them.