He climbed painfully to his feet, crashed on through the undergrowth. The density of trees ended abruptly and he stopped. Around the scout ship in the clearing beyond, robot dredges were digging the foundations for buildings. Gray-uniformed men were setting up new-type atomic artillery at the perimeters. Arak Miller drew a deep breath. "I'm saved," he said, his voice breaking. "I'm going to be a free man!" He tottered on the edge of hysteria, but controlled himself with a mighty effort of will. He took a step forward to reach the clearing. Then he stopped. Something was wrong. He tried to put together the pieces of his mind. Everything looked normal. Construction going on, stores being transferred to temporary warehouses, all the usual activities of a scout party on an atomic testing mission. The artillery was pointing-- That was the flaw. The artillery faced inward. He looked back at the construction work. "Not foundations for buildings," he said dully. "Ditches." As he watched, a flag was run up on a pole. The dreams of Arak Miller crashed in his mind. It was the flag of the slave world, super-imposed upon the symbol of the Systems. The world controlled by the dictators, which for centuries had existed alongside the free world in a perpetual cold war. During some stage of Arak Miller's long imprisonment, from Venus to Centaurus the dictators had taken over. Hidden from guards, he lay on the ground and watched for a long time. Only when the next batch of captives was taken out of the scout ship and lined up in front of the ditch, did he turn his gaze away. He waited till the next shock wave had passed, then with tears streaming down his face, hobbled back in the rain toward the river. He crawled the last two miles to his house. Miss Gormeley was sitting where he had left her. "I am sorry," he said painfully. "I will have to destroy you. And Marbach. And our house, and the pyres. And when all that is done, I will have to leave this area. Otherwise they might find me." Miss Gormeley stared blindly out at the river. He lay still on the floor, gasping for breath. "You see," he explained, "I am not a prisoner. They are the prisoners. All of them. All the world--but me." His eyes closed in exhaustion. "I like it here now," he said, almost in a whisper. "I intend to stay. There must be some place here where they can never find me, you understand?"