Now, the two of them were in the kitchen planning his death. "Science Fiction Editor Accidentally Killed in Mountain Retreat. Bride Stricken." Then the grief-stricken bride would carry on in his place. _Orion_ was going great guns now. It really didn't need Max Field. And without him their propaganda machine could move forward all the faster--forward to the day when the Kiriki cosmic crusade moved down into this solar system. The Patterned Contentment boys would take over. Whose pattern? Kiriki, of course.... The kitchen door opened slowly. Max tensed. It was--_Alice_. She wore that clinging black lace negligee he had bought in an exclusive Fifth Avenue shop. "Max." He stood up stiffly, staring. "Change, damn you! _Change!_" "Why, Max," she pouted. "Don't you love me any more?" It was intended to drive him nutty, maybe to suicide. "You should have drunk the champagne," she said softly. "It would have been easier for you. Would you like a drink now?" She held out a glass. All of a sudden he wanted that glass more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. Even Alice. It was the end of the line, the dropping off point. He couldn't take it any more. Not Alice--like that. He walked over to her and took the glass. He lifted it to his lips. * * * * * Something slapped the glass out of his hand as the window behind them shattered inward. Alice flashed an angry glance at the face in the window, then moved quickly back into the kitchen. "Ric!" Max's bewilderment changed to sudden hope. "Hurry!" Planter cried. "Get through this window!" Max dove through while the writer yanked him by the elbows. Max was shivering and sweating at the same time. But the cool night breeze helped a little. "W-where in the billy-hell did you--" "Come from?" Ric finished. "Been on Starr's trail for weeks. Had this thing figured out for some time, even before you tipped me off on the phone that day. I followed Starr here. Been watching and waiting." He was wearing a fish-basket and, incongruously, it was filled with bombs. He handed some to Max. "Start heaving. Aim for the kitchen door before they close it." He tossed a handful of the bombs into the room. Max followed suit. Inside, the bombs broke, letting out a pungent gas. "What is it?" "Insecticide," Ric grinned. "More potent than DDT. Those outlines Starr made out furnished the clews. It should do it." "Won't they get out the kitchen door?" "Uh-uh. I sealed it up proper. It and the window." The door between the rooms slammed shut but not before half a dozen bombs had got through. Ric slammed the shutters too. They waited. "If it doesn't kill them it'll put them to sleep for hours. Basically, from Starr's dossiers on the Kiriki, they have all the vulnerable points of our grasshoppers. And fire will destroy them utterly. I'm afraid we can't take chances, so this cabin will have to go. Match?" * * * * *