Unger took the device and examined it. "Hmmmm." His eyes sought Martin. "This is not only a camera, it is a very complex and compact recording device designed to make a permanent record of the sights, sounds, and many of the other vibratory frequencies present in this room." "Well--" Martin said. "There is no point in attempting to deny it. The object speaks for itself. Why did you bring this recording device into the Room of the Dreaming?" Unger's words were hard and cold. "No excuse!" Martin's words were hot. "Just a single question: Why are they forbidden in these rooms?" "Why?" Unger's voice suddenly lost its certainty. Martin's voice continued. "Why have you kept this information from us humans? Is it because these Dreaming Rooms, and the act of dreaming as practiced by you Venusians, is nothing but a hypnotic device, a trick used to cheat fools of their money?" "It--" "Fraud!" Martin shouted. The word seemed to roar through the room. Unger lost his poise. The Venusian seemed to writhe, to squirm, to twist as if some unseen and invisible force was torturing him. Johnson moved forward. Caldwell went with them. Martin saw them for the first time. "Johnny! Caldwell! Where did you come from?" Johnson's eyes were centered on Unger. The zit gun in his hand was poised and aimed at the eyes of the Venusian. "If anyone makes a move toward us, the charge in this gun will go into your eyes," Johnson said. "I suppose you know that under such circumstances the charge from a zit gun will kill." Unger stopped his squirming. He seemed suddenly to realize that other humans were present. His round, impassive face turned toward Johnson. "Ah, yes, you," he said. "Call off your dogs," Johnson said. "Tell these people to permit us to leave." "But--" "You look at death, Dreamer!" "I know that. Death is not important. Have you considered that these dogs are really wolves who will tear you to pieces at my nod?" Unger's shifting gaze indicated the other Venusians in the room. Out of the corners of his eyes Johnson saw that Taldero had drawn his knife again. Others were moving like jungle cats getting ready to pounce. "True, you can have your wolves kill us," Johnson said. "But our deaths will follow yours, not precede it." His voice was clear and firm. If there was fear in him it was out of sight. He did not know how much most of the Venusians were understanding of what he was saying but one thing they certainly understood--the zit gun in his hand. "We are going out of here," Johnson said. "You are going with us as a hostage. Our lives for your life." Unger lifted his hand. "One minute, if you please. There are questions I want to ask. Who is this man?" He gestured toward Martin. "A very renowned human scientist." "Ah, and what is he doing on Venus?" "Don't tell him!" Caldwell spoke sharply. "It's none of his business." "It might be some of my business if I knew," Unger said.