Without death, the victim lived out a full lifetime of raw, shrieking pain.... His screams as he awoke silenced the giant tree-toads who hung heavily from the five-hundred foot crinoids. But before he left for Vencity through the darkness, he had suppressed the stark horror of the dream. Once more he had drowned his hell in Stith. * * * * * He crawled out of the decrepit tractor, on the outskirts of Vencity. The city's lights glowed eerily through the night-thickened blanket of fog, as Owen found his way cautiously through rotting vegetation, then hesitated before entering Swamper Swhin's Dive. Tinny music came from the native band inside the smoky interior as it played the incomprehensible "music." A few Earthmen and women sat inside at the small oblong tables--tourists getting a morbid thrill from Venusian culture. He slipped inside, around the shadowed wall and into a public audio-booth. He dialed the Vencity Laboratories. "Connect me with the Psychometric section, please. Urgent information for Chief Albert Baarslag." "Who is calling?" the male secretary's voice said sleepily. "Jonathon Graem, kelph farmer, Sector 5. I have highly interesting information revealing some unknown facts about psychological motivation of native swampers in my sector." The male secretary hesitated. "Professor Baarslag knows about me," Owen persisted. "I've submitted other discoveries of mine to him before. He told me to come back, and report any new discoveries to him immediately." "Just a minute, sir. I'll connect your audio with Professor Baarslag's study." He knew he would get results with that line about new psychological discoveries concerning native behavior patterns. Their mental processes were quite a mystery. Not a mystery to Owen any more. As far as he was concerned, they didn't have any mental processes at all. Owen waited for Albert's voice. His twin still had a soft spot in his heart for him, he was pretty certain of that. A desperate appeal of the kind he intended to make would move his brother emotionally--get the sympathetic reaction he needed to complete his rather fantastic plan. His brother's voice startled him. It was a perfect replica of his own. Soft, cultured and low. "Yes?" "This is Owen." He heard a catch, a pause from the other end of the audio. "I--yes--why hello, Owen. Where are you? Wha--what do you want?" Owen grinned coldly, but his voice was warm with repentant emotion. "Albert. I--I'm giving myself up. I've had enough. It's been a noble and futile life for me anyway. You know that it's always been just a matter of time before I would give myself up. Well, this is it. I'm--just outside the City now. At Swamper Swhin's Dive. But Albert--" The Chief of Psychometry's voice was low, hoarse. "Yes, Owen."