Ortine said, "Gladly--but I fear my explanation would do you little good. The process involves an alteration of atomic structure that can be achieved only in the sub-space that is my native universe." Then, abruptly, "I hope, however, that the explanation I have given you, along with the fact that I consider your current problem sufficiently important to bring you to Belvoir, has revealed to you how vital it is that you refuse Henri Dubois any important funds." "It has raised another factor worth consideration," said Justin equivocally. "I have noticed that you bring people to Belvoir only in their sleep. Would you object to telling me why?" "Hardly." There was a rueful twist to Ortine's half-smile. "I am not, in any real way, possessed of what you would term supernatural equipment. What may look like magic to you is nothing more than a demonstration of the realities of my own universe." "But...?" said Justin. "_But_"--Ortine grimaced--"I have no actual control over the minds or bodies of human beings. Not on their own world at any rate. Incidentally I have no control over your mind here on Belvoir, though actually, while here, you are in my type of space rather than your own. "However I _can_ attain control over you when you are in the process of drifting into sleep--and then only when the distraction of some impending judgment has lowered your normal psychological defenses. In your instance, as in all others, I was forced to enter your mind through a dream--but surely you remember...." "It scared hell out of me." * * * * * Ortine looked regretful. "Unfortunately, there is a slight narcosis necessary to effect a transfer from your atmosphere to that of Belvoir," he said. "It usually takes the form of unconsciousness, as far as the subject is concerned, most easily connected with the dream involved. A number of more primitive folk seem to have imagined themselves drowned or consumed by wild beasts or fire, poor devils." "And you say all of this--of this odd assortment you have brought here--is made up of sane men and women?" Justin asked. "My dear Justin"--Ortine looked pained--"you must be more tolerant. Mind you, these people have been culled from all of human history. You must have seen quite a variety at mealtime." "Quite," replied Justin. "Incidentally, your feeding arrangement is ingenious to put it mildly. How do you know I shan't take advantage of it to get drunk and foul up the assignment." Ortine laughed openly. "My dear Justin," he repeated, "you are a sane man." "Mr. Ortine," said Justin, "from what one or two of the others have said since I got here I am the last one they are waiting for." "That," said Ortine, rising from the chair, "is entirely true."