"That," Baxter remarked, "is precisely the point, Mister Delvin. A moment or two ago, not three yards to the left of where those fools were sitting--no, don't bother looking, there's only empty space there now--there was a small sending set. I brought it all the way from Earth with me. In fact, that is the reason I was sitting in this room tonight. Had my agents reported to my satisfaction that you were present among the Ancients, I should have used that set to detonate the atomic bullet in the false Amnesty. However--" "Your trigger went bye-bye," I finished. "Need I say I am elated?" "I take it the woman, the one wearing the false Amnesty, means something to you?" Baxter said. "The Ancients seemed to set some store in her captivity's coercive power over you." "She does," I admitted. "Which is why I'm happy you no longer possess the means to set that damned thing off." I had no particular love for the Ancients, but I didn't much like the thought of Snow being blasted into radioactive rubble. "Well, then, if you desire to save her, you and your friend are going to guide me down to that cavern where they dwell, and--" Footsteps pounded down the corridor, and then a squad of armed guards came into view. They saw Baxter and halted, and their leader stepped forward. "Sir," he said, "Our detectors reported a collapser being--" his gaze, forgetful of military deportment, took a second to wander bug-eyed over the more truncated sections of the room, "--being used in this vicinity." "Congratulations," Baxter remarked sarcastically. "Your eyes might give you the selfsame information, corporal. One has been used. I have the situation in hand, however. You may take your men and go." "Yes, sir," the young man said, obviously fighting an urge to break protocol and ask what the hell happened. "Oh! And corporal," Baxter said, as the boy began to organize his squad. "Sir?" "You might scratch Myers and Gibson off the payroll list. Send their families the usual telegrams of condolence." The corporal's eyes bugged even more so, and he swallowed noisily before mumbling "Yes, sir" again and departing. "That was pretty callous, even from you," I said, as the sounds of their footsteps dwindled and disappeared. "Not callous at all. Efficient." "Callous." Baxter shrugged. "In any case, come along you two. The sooner I rid myself of these Ancients, the better." There was nothing else we could do. Dejectedly, Clatclit began moving off in his lumbering lope toward the staircase. I followed, no cheerier than he. Baxter brought up the rear. So far as I could see, in selecting me as the tool of Baxter's destruction, the Ancients had made the error of their four-dimensional lives!