"There were some interesting details in Tornelescu's notes, Ross," he announced in a voice that rang with exaltation. "One of them was that Thigpen always carried an ampule of the perfected catalyst in his writer." He pressed the injector's plunger. The ampule's contents sprayed into his arm. After that, it was like the time with Astrell, except that Mawson was male, not female. And, that the process stopped at the proper point, instead of going on into catabolic disaster. Young now, in the prime of life, glowing with health except for his crippled legs, the adjudicator leaned back in his grav-seat. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You understand, don't you, that this changes our situation somewhat, Mr. Ross?" he inquired. "I understand," Ross answered curtly. "Good." The other rubbed his hands and chuckled. "As a matter of fact, as I see it, I no longer have any need for your services. Changed as I am, young again, I'll have no trouble hiding till I myself can find or buy Thigpen's code." A pause. "That transforms you, Mr. Ross. It transforms you from an asset to a liability, by my bookkeeping." Ross didn't answer. "The same holds for Miss Hall," the adjudicator went on. "Before, she constituted an excellent pawn. Now, she's only a dangerous witness." Abruptly, he turned to the man with the paragun. "You, my friend! Take this injector"--he touched the aeroderm unit--"and two ampules from the black case. Spray one into each of our friends, here." Ross went rigid. A horrified cry burst from Veta's throat. Tightly, Ross said, "Look, Mawson, it's all right to kill me if you want to; I signed on with Security because I had a taste for trouble. "With Veta, it's different. She's done nothing, hurt no one. She'll keep quiet--" "Hurry it up, gentlemen," Mawson ordered his aides. "I want no accidents to halt us now." "Back, you!" snarled Corrack, covering Ross with his blaster. His companion advanced on Veta. Wild-eyed with panic, she retreated before him ... clear to the wall ... on around the room ... almost to the door now; almost to Corrack. Whirling, then, she leaped at the blaster-man from behind--clutching at his arm, knocking up his weapon. "Stewart--" she screamed. "Run Stewart; run! Get away! Call Security--" Ross lunged. But it was towards her, struggling with Corrack; not the door. Only then purple light pulsed past his head, so close that his eyes went out of focus. He staggered, tripped, pitched to his knees. ... And there, off to one side, grav-seat already rising, sat Mawson. His teeth were bared, and he held his paragun poised and ready. Ross started to rise. Mawson triggered another ray. Whirling, Ross plunged through the doorway and ran for his life. CHAPTER VIII WRITE IT IN BLOOD! Feet pounded behind Ross in the darkness of the warehouse. Dropping flat, he rolled till he bumped against stacked transit cases.