Dworn's aching head was not serving him well, but a part of his intelligence functioned to grapple with the implication of her words. "The Rim"--that must mean the Barrier, as seen from its eastern side. Then she, and others like her, must have come from beyond the Barrier. A walking machine could descend by the broken path of the landslide. But "spider"--the word rang some bell deep in his mind, some recollection of childhood's fairytale bogeys perhaps, but he still hadn't succeeded in grasping the memory. He growled, "I don't know--but if you'd untie my hands, I'd show you what a beetle is." She eyed him thoughtfully. Then she smiled, showing the sharp little white teeth again. "Presently I'll free you. When it's quite safe. As soon as--" Her hand dipped to a small black case secured to her belt, and came up with a diminutive gleaming object--a slender needle thrusting from a liquid-filled plastic cylinder fitted with a plunger. "Do you know what _this_ is, beetle?" Dworn glowered silently. "When I've injected this fluid into your veins, you will have no will of your own left. You'll do what I say, and only what I say--for the rest of your life, beetle!" Dworn's eyes clung in unwilling fascination to the glittering needle. He said through stiff lips, "Now I remember. Your kind is a legend among my people. The evil women who have no men ... who kill their male children at birth, and trap their mates from among the other races, and kill them, too, when they no longer want them.... _Spider!_" His gaze collided squarely with hers, and she needed no skill to read the loathing in it, rendered more violent by her beauty that he could not help but see. Her eyes dropped first. She clutched the needle and muttered fiercely to herself, "But when you've had the injection, it won't matter. I'll say, 'Love me!' and you'll love me, and 'Die!' and you'll die...." Dworn stared burningly at the slim figure in black with the scarlet hourglass on her bosom. He was alert again, and his mind was racing. To all appearances he was lost--but something in the spider girl's manner gave him an unreasonable hope. He said abruptly, "So. Why didn't you use your poison while I was stunned? That would have been easy." She looked away. "You ask foolish questions, beetle. Naturally, I had to prepare myself according to our customs. I had to paint my face and make myself beautiful...." He said inspiredly, "You _are_ beautiful." Her reaction was surprising. She stood gazing raptly at him, lips slightly parted the hypodermic forgotten in her hand. Dworn sensed that had he been unbound, he would have had no trouble overpowering her. She whispered, "_It's true, then!_" And he realized forcibly how young she was--the painted lips made her look much older, and the shadows--which he now saw were also painted on--beneath her eyes. Only a girl, and if she had been one of his own people he would have looked at her twice and more than twice....