"Let me see your head." "It's all right," said Tedor, revealing the blood-matted hair. "What do you know of a solidio writer name of Dorlup?" "Friend of a friend. One of those things where you have to be nice. Don't tell me he had something to do with this?" Tedor shrugged. "Coincidence maybe. I don't know. He admitted visiting Fornswitthe earlier. He's immensely interested in 1955." "As you say, coincidence." "That's hardly likely. Especially since Dorlup made it his business to know Fornswitthe's whereabouts. That's the part that hurts, Ruscar. If I hadn't decided to take the evening off, I'd have been helping Fornswitthe prepare the report." "How far did he get?" "Impossible to say. I found one spool, others probably were stolen." Ruscar led Tedor to a chair, told him to sit down. Soon Ruscar had clamped an electrode to the side of Tedor's head, plugging the wire which led from it into the wall. "Let's concentrate on this girl you found in Fornswitthe's place." Tedor nodded, found it ridiculously easy. Moments later, a sheet of paper popped out of a slot in the wall. Ruscar retrieved it, stared at the sketch of a beautiful face. "She looks familiar," he said, and slid the drawing into a second slot. He offered Tedor a cigarette, and together they waited. In five minutes, a buzzer purred, a section of a wall in front of them was bathed in light. On it appeared the twice life-size solidio of a woman. "That's her!" Tedor cried, and read the legend under the picture. _Laniq Hadrien, age 25, height 5'6", weight 125, v. s. 36-24-36, hair blond, eyes blue. Wanted: 5th century B.C., 8th, 13th, 16th, 20th A.D. Time tinkering: pilfered fifteen valuable works of art, motive unknown._ "I knew she looked familiar," said Ruscar after the picture had faded. "She's the daughter of a Domique Hadrien who created quite a furor a few years back with a theory about dictatorship. Maybe you remember it." Tedor shook his head. "Hadrien claimed one man or group of men in our time was behind all the great dictatorships throughout human history. Sort of--well, a monopoly on despotism. He maintained the position for years, getting cantankerous when no one in our office would believe him." "What finally happened to him?" "Disappeared. Last seen in the middle of your stamping ground, Tedor, but before your time. The 20th century." "1955?" Tedor suggested. "Possibly. Although I can't see a connection between that and Hadrien's pet theory." "What about the theory, anyway?" * * * * * "We checked into it, of course. That's our job, Tedor. We prevent time tinkering. A monopoly on despotism would be tinkering on the grand scale. For a couple of years it was a top priority job. We were never able to find out anything, so the old chief finally figured the whole thing was in Hadrien's imagination. A few years later I took over, and soon after that Hadrien disappeared.