"This is hardly the time for jests, Quadrate. I hardly think I need quote the Commandment sub-section setting forth the law concerning the status of husband and wife when either is found guilty of heresy. Your rank permits you to deny your wife's collusion if you wish, but--unfortunately, Madame Blair has been unquestionably linked with one of the pitiful but vicious little underground groups of men and women whose constant and sole aim is not only to abolish the war games, but to accomplish the eventual destruction of our sacred government. She--as well as yourself, I might add--has been under painstaking scrutiny for almost a year. I am informed that a carefully guarded but all too unwise series of tele-calls to your home has at last established the necessary link. Ever hear of the Saint Napoleon Culture Society, Quadrate? No? No, of course you haven't! Quadrate Tayne!" "Yes, your Very Grand Excellence!" "I'm putting this man in your custody for the trip to Earth. Your orders are to deliver him in person to the S-Council--you'll take-off immediately. The games will be under my personal supervision until you return. Any questions?" "I am to deliver this man in person to the S-Council. No questions, sir." "Carry on, then." He returned Tayne's salute with a perfunctory dip of his sword-point, then sheathed the weapon and followed Doug into the waiting vehicle. * * * * * Take-off black-out was but momentary and wore off quickly. Escaping Venus' lesser gravity was noticeably easier, and the fog-shrouded planet still filled the viewscreen when Doug got to his feet. He was half surprised to discover that there were no steel cuffs at his wrists, and that he had not been bound other than by the safety belts to the acceleration hammock. But it was logical enough. A robot-guided ship in Space was quite efficiently escape-proof. It had been an effective trap before, and now it was an equally effective prison. And Tayne, who had already opened trajectory compensation communications with Venus headquarters, was the one who had the sword. Tayne's back was to him. A sudden leap-- No. With Tayne unconscious or dead, it would make little difference. His presence aboard the ship was apparently only for the satisfaction of protocol. Placed aboard it alone, Doug reasoned, he would have been as well secured a prisoner as had he been accompanied by a guard of one hundred men. It was not Tayne, but the autorobot guiding the ship that was his jailer. Yet, Tayne had not removed his sword.... Doug watched the white mass of Venus as it receded with torturing slowness in the screen, let it half-hypnotize him. There was something stirring uneasily somewhere far back in his brain--something, something--but it did not matter. Nothing at all mattered now. The race--the great, hopeless race he had planned for freedom had never even begun!