Ileth looked startled, frightened. She tried to draw away but Saxon held onto her arm. "No. No, he hasn't. Please let go. You're hurting me, Jon." But he didn't release her. "Is he aboard the ship?" "No. I don't know. General Atomic didn't notify me that he would be." Abruptly, Ileth didn't seem confused any longer. She raised her chin, looked Saxon nakedly in the eyes making no effort to conceal her thoughts. "I think he is," she said simply. "But I don't know. He hasn't identified himself, if he is. I--I haven't seen anyone aboard that I know. I think I'm the only General Atomic agent aboard, and I'm an accredited representative." Saxon regarded her a moment without speaking. The girl was telling the truth as far as she knew. There could be no doubt about that. * * * * * Saxon introduced Ileth to Brand, Government's bio-chemist, to Mercedes, the gray-haired middle-aged woman who was Government's authority in anthropology. He made the circuit of the lounge with her, letting her chat with ethnologists and semantics experts, psycho-historians and zoologists--all of Government's brilliant array of specialists. And all the while he kept his mind open and alert, sifting their varied thought patterns for a betraying sign. He didn't intercept a single suspicious thought. They all seemed to be just exactly what they were supposed to be, each one an expert in his field, eager and enthusiastic investigators beginning an unparalleled adventure. Saxon could discover no evidences that any of them had sold out to General Atomic. If Q62 or any General Atomic agent were among Government's staff, they were perfect in dissembling their thoughts. From the lounge, Saxon showed Ileth about the ship. He could see it was an experience for the girl. The _Shooting Star_ had been built along the general design of a cruiser, heavily armed and armored against the possibilities of hostile races inhabiting the planets of the Alpha Centaurian suns. Her crew was small. Government's staff of scientists numbered fourteen; and only four of the corporations were represented: General Atomic, Tri-World, Amalgamated Plastic and United Spaceways. In spite of the mass of equipment and a year's emergency ration of fuel and supplies, they were not crowded. Saxon led Ileth through the control room, the officer's mess, the engine room and observation deck. Everywhere they went, Saxon probed the brains of crew and officers. At the end of two hours, he still had found exactly nothing. Apparently Q62 was not aboard. Ileth asked slyly, "Did you find him?" They had entered the deck on which the cabins were located and were passing the closed door of number seven. "Q62?" said Saxon with a puzzled frown. "No--" He halted abruptly, seizing the girl's arm. "Jon! What is it?" "Be quiet!" Saxon's scalp was tingling as if minute electrical shocks were coursing through the roots of his hair. The Aliens?