Struggling to close the zipper now, Laniq groped for the light, found it, switched it on. She clambered into the center of the room, stumbling over something and falling flat. She sat up, groggy, unable to fasten the zipper and feeling every inch a helpless woman fighting against a cunning, ruthless foe in the time-stream. "That's better." Laniq looked around, saw no one. She finally managed to fasten the zipper. She sat there, staring. "Well, where are you?" Silence. She was on the point of getting up and looking around despite the warning, when the conveyor door opened. She stared, mouth agape. A man entered the conveyor, nodded curtly at her and said, "Stay put." He waved an atomic pistol for emphasis, and since he had just come from outside and no anachronistic weapons were permitted outside conveyors, he was either a Century Agent or one of the monopolist's men. Either way, Laniq was raging. He had fooled her with an obvious trick. Not wanting to be taken by surprise himself, he had merely planted an amplifier in her conveyor, waited till she entered, then addressed her from the safety of his own craft. He hadn't entered her conveyor until he was reasonably certain she would listen to him. "Where are we going?" Laniq demanded as he set the controls, his back to her. "Home to our own time," he said, and turned to face her. * * * * * With despair, she recognized the man she had struck in the dead Agent's apartment. "Wait. Please." Laniq pleaded. "What for? I've come over twenty-thousand years looking for you. I swore to find you ever since the night you killed my apprentice." "Then you _are_ an Agent." "What did you think I was, Miss Hadrien?" "Well, we were advised Fornswitthe and a man named Barwan had returned from the twentieth century with a report that would help our cause. Since there was a chance it would uncover this monopolist my father has been talking about--uh, you know my father?" "I know all about him." "Anyway, we were watching Fornswitthe's place. It was left unguarded for not more than an hour, but that was enough. I returned in time to see you standing over Fornswitthe's body and ... say! If you're not one of them, if you _are_ an Agent, you must be Barwan." Tedor nodded, continued adjusting the controls. "Wait, Barwan. If you came twenty-thousand years, then give me ten minutes." "You didn't give Fornswitthe any kind of a chance," Tedor said bitterly. "I thought _you_ killed him!" she insisted. "But tell me, what did you find in the twentieth century?" "That's none of your business."