"Wilding was a good choice. Environment and heredity made him a criminal, but he had a good mind and the primal virtue of courage. He was ambitious, a practical dreamer. Like your whole civilization, he attempted to reach worthy ends by evil means. From desperate need and because of a mystical anger, he is in revolt against his own kind, and against their culture. There was almost fatal weakness in his disregard of the precious gift of life, even of his own. He became an ideal test case. "By his decision to give up his hopes and plans, and surrender rather than endanger a single life he has proved himself. He has won, for himself and for his race, another chance. "There is a place where you can go. An Earth-type planet on which you can still play out your dream of building a world to your own needs and desires. It is in a parallel space-time continuum, not your familiar universe, and the way there is strange and terrible. There, you will be no menace to my people and the others, and by the time you have learned your way back, you will be civilized ... or will have destroyed yourself in the process." Wilding fixed his eyes on Elshar as the girl finished speaking. Doubt had died out in him slowly, for her manner carried an eery conviction. "Is all this true?" he had to ask as his mind grappled with the strangeness of her. "Can you really get us away from the cruisers, and show us how to reach this ... private world?" "Quite true," she said softly. "I can't go with you, but I can make some ... adjustments ... in your course calculators. I can give your navigator instructions by post-hypnotic suggestion, which he will forget as soon as you reach your destination. Do you still wish to go?" * * * * * Wilding nodded quickly. He glanced upward at the view-screen where rioting colors had begun to flare and swirl. The timelimit of the patrol's ultimatum was up. "Do whatever she tells you," he ordered Concor. Then to Grouth, "Make the connection. I'll talk to him." Colors steadied and faded on the screen, built up an image. It was the same officer. "You've made no surrender signals," the policeman stated. "Hold your fire," Wilding told him savagely. "We're putting out spacecrafts with the hostages. They're alive and well. After that, I'll discuss terms." Indecision struggled on the officer's face. But he shrugged and smiled coldly. If Wilding was willing to yield his only bargaining point, it was worth a brief concession of time. And there was nothing to lose by waiting, since the trap had already closed. Grouth broke the connection rudely. They waited while hostages were released, hustled into spacearmor, and put aboard the spacecrafts. Air hissed in the escape tubes. Wilding shot an anxious glance at Elshar. She was smiling again, sadly, fondly. "Time enough. Don't worry about the patrol ships. Everything is ready. I almost wish I could go with you. Your experiment should be ... interesting."