He was tall, broad of shoulder, wore a snap-brim hat and a concealed weapon which nevertheless bulged on his hip. He showed his credentials. "I am from Army Intelligence," he announced. "The Chief of Staff's Office instructed me personally to escort you to a meeting with a Comrade Ruscar." "Chief of Staff," said Dorlup. "That would be Chenkov himself. You're a big fish, Barwan." Tedor wondered if there could be any truth in all that Dorlup had said. Looking at Dorlup now, he realized the man bordered on hysteria, and even if he were indeed well-meaning, he could still have misinterpreted everything. Unlikely--but no less likely than the accusations Dorlup had made against Mulid Ruscar. Perhaps the Intelligence Agent could inadvertently shed light on the entire situation. Tedor yawned. "I am tired. I think I have changed my mind. Yes, I'd rather sleep. You tell the Chief of Staff to tell Ruscar I won't see him today, after all." "But Comrade, I was sent to get you." "Fine, you're a good man. I'm sending you back without me. Care for a drink before you leave?" "Thank you, no. I never drink on duty. Comrade, listen; the Chief of Staff would hate to tell Comrade Ruscar that you have changed your mind. I know this for a fact, Comrade." "Are you trying to say I haven't much choice? I go with you voluntarily or get taken?" The Intelligence Agent shrugged. "I never said it and you are putting it crudely, even coarsely. But the general assumption is correct." Still smiling, Tedor reached for the bottle of vodka which stood on a table near the door. The Intelligence Agent stood with one foot inside the apartment, one outside, waiting. "Go to hell," said Tedor. The Intelligence Agent reached quickly for his gun. Tedor swung the vodka bottle in a short, savage arc at the right side of the man's face while he fumbled in his pocket for the weapon. The bottle struck his jawbone, shattered. He screamed and fell, his face a red smear. Tedor dragged him inside the apartment and shut the door. "Maybe you know what you're talking about, Dorlup. Are you willing to help me prove it?" "I guess so. Yes, of course!" Tedor reached into the fallen Intelligence Agent's pocket, found his wallet, his identification card with a picture and his gun. "We'll need this," he said. "Come on." Laniq's commandeered auto was still parked at the curb downstairs, a crowd of urchins admiring it. "Climb in," Tedor told Dorlup, then walked to a display board down the street, found a poster with Malenkov's picture, quickly removed it and ran for the car. "We're dead ducks if my time-conveyor isn't where I left it," he said. "If it's there, we may have a chance." * * * * * And half an hour later: "So we're in your conveyor. Now what?" "Sit down," said Tedor. "We've got to hurry." "But this is the matter duplicator."