When I lagged at the entry-hatch, my captor gave me yet another kick, from behind and to the hinge of my left knee, so that I fell through the slot bodily, sprawling on my face on the stone-hard floor inside. More kicks, as Kruze himself entered. I lurched from his path and, shaking, dragged myself onto the nearest bench. My nails gouged the plasticon in stiff-fingered spasms of pure homicidal fury. But always, always, there was the gun in Kruze's hand--an unwavering gun, centered dead upon me and backed with eyes as bleak and chill as far-off Pluto's ice-mass. Now Kruze stepped to the warp-board, adjusting controls with swift, sure skill. "This should interest you, Traynor." He talked as he worked, a cool, conversational monolog. "As you know, a space-warp calls for both transmitting and receiving units. For round-trip travel, you have to have both at each terminal point. "That fact gave me an idea--one designed to take care of crises just such as this one you've precipitated. "First, I looked for precisely the right planet: one not only uninhabited, but completely devoid of any means of sustaining life. "I found the ideal spot when an exploration party visited Aldebaran's solar system. It's a world there they named Sheol--a planetary hell, an abode fit only for the dead. "In accordance with my orders, techs installed a space-warp chamber on it, complete with a receiving unit. "There's no transmitter, however. So whoever's sent there can plan on permanent residence, alive or dead. "That's where you come in, Traynor: You'll be the first among those permanent residents...." Somehow, I didn't even shudder. It was as if I'd been expecting such; as if this only reaffirmed my insight into Kruze and his potentialities for evil. But the controller was still talking: "... and then, there's the matter of the girl. From your very reticence, I take it for granted you've confided in her. So I'll simply see that she's hunted down, supplied with a thrill-mill, and then executed on the spot for possession of it. I suspect it can all be taken care of before she even realizes that anything out of line has happened to you." I looked up, then. Slowly. Painfully. Still not quite believing. "That hit you, did it?" Kruze laughed--a harsh, mirthless sound, deep in his throat. "I thought it would. That's what happens, when a man's emotions run unconditioned, unrestrained." I gripped the bench. I had a feeling that all my nails were broken, my fingers bleeding. But I didn't look to see. Kruze said, "I know. You're trying to nerve yourself to rush me. Only believe me, it wouldn't do any good. I can ship you to Sheol dead just as well as living." He turned from the board as he spoke, so that he faced me squarely. Never had the gun been steadier; never the challenge of the cold eyes more apparent, more relentless. "Rack you, Kruze!" I choked. I wouldn't keep my voice from shaking.