"But," said Jettero, "I flunked smelling the ozone that always comes from an electric whip even out of use and I did not hear your boss close the door behind me. So I flunk. I am not the fellow for your job."

"No, no, no," I said hastily. "That's for me to judge. Now let's get on with this. Why did you let that other player win?" I really wanted to know. It had puzzled me ever since I had seen it.

He looked at me as though wondering what sort of a monster I was. He didn't answer so I said, "Why did you throw the game away?" In a very patient voice, the way one explains something to a child, he said, "His sweetheart was in the stands. She had come clear from his home planet to watch him play. If he had lost, it would have shamed him in front of her."

"Oh, wait," I said. "You tossed him some balls. You were mocking him. That was far worse than just defeating him."

"That is true," said Heller. "So I had no choice except to distract attention from him by stepping outside my ring and losing the game. If you were watching, you saw it work. He kept his pride and was not shamed." I was astonished. I felt upset. Anyone in the Apparatus could tell you that it is utterly fatal not to win every time and in every place. Compassion is a fatal word! The dirtier one played, the better. And always to win, no matter what the cost to anyone.

This fellow would never make a spy. Never! Lords help him! And Lords help me as his handler!

"Great!" I cried, feeling as false as a prostitute. "You've passed with all tubes blasting! You're the very fellow for the job!"

The light of the wire cage was bad, the stink was overpowering. I produced the copy of the order and with a flourish of fluttering seals, held it in front of his face.

"The Grand Council, no less," I said. "One of the most important missions of the year! And as you can see, it has been entrusted to the Exterior Division with complete autonomy and discretion." I made the paper snap importantly.

As he made no response, I summoned up the brightest voice I could in that horrible place and said, "We hadto have the best in Voltar and we have chosen you!"If this quickened any ambition in him, it was not detectable.

"I think," he said, "that you had better get me my watch." I had no idea why a watch had anything to do with it. I had to get a guard anyway to get the electric cuffs off. So I went to a wall installation and hit the buzzer.

After a while, a wrinkled cripple showed up and looked at me uncertainly. "Remove the electric cuffs from this prisoner," I ordered. "And bring some food and water. Also, bring back his possessions." Muttering that he had to get the circuit combinations, the sorry excuse for a guard limped off.

We waited and after a while the wreck came back with a metal card, a water jug and some filthy looking meal in a rusty can. I stood back, alert, while the cripple fumbled around with the card and finally removed the wrist and ankle cuffs. He put the food and water down on the filthy floor and limped off.

"Wait," I said. "Where are the prisoner's possessions?" The guard just drew further off, saying in an annoyed whine, "I'm off duty now. You'll have to buzz for the next guard." Heller was sitting up. He was cautiously sipping at the water jug, not taking too much, letting the swelling of his tongue go down. I buzzed again, cross that the first guard wouldn't even tell the next one the message.

After a lapse of half an hour or more and several buzzes sent, a huge, overbearing Calabarian came into the room. "What's all the row here?" he demanded angrily. "Buzz, buzz, buzz! Nobody can rest!" I had backed up, blastick ready. This fellow weighed at least three hundred pounds and his naked torso was a mass of knife scars. He had a face from a nightmare.

"Get this prisoner's possessions. A sweater, a pair of shoes and a watch." I turned to Heller and he nodded that that was all.

"And what service are you?" demanded the huge guard. "How do I know who you are? You ain't wearing no Apparatus uniform!"

"I'll make it worth your while," I said, acutely aware of being a mile deep and at the mercy of these thugs.

The monster seemed to nod as though that was what he had been waiting to hear. He disappeared.

Heller diffidently ate a little bit of the food. He washed it down with another swallow of water.

I twitched the Grand Council order in my hand. "This is a great opportunity," I said coaxingly.

Heller shook his head. "Wait." After a long time the big guard came back. He had a new, shallow cut under one eye. He threw the shoes on the floor in front of Heller and slapped the sweater, now very filthy, at Heller's face. "He wasn't wearing no watch when he came in," he said.

I looked at Heller. "You wouldn't be wearing a watch in a game of bullet ball," I said.

"A friend was holding it," said Jettero. "He gave it back when I left the floor. These apes took it."

"Get his watch," I told the guard. "No watch, no pay." He snarled to himself and went off again.

The water and food were helping. Jettero stood up and I was very alert, gripping the blastick. But he just exercised his limbs a bit. Then he sat down and used a sleeve of the sweater and some of the water to sponge out the shoes: somebody else had been wearing them, they were filthy.

After a long time the huge guard came back. He had a new bruise on the side of his mouth and his knuckles were skinned. But he was holding the watch.

I had never seen a space engineer's watch before. I took it to make sure it contained no trick weapons: life in the Apparatus makes one suspicious. But it was just a big, round dial with a small hole in its face and a heavy metal band. I handed it over to Jettero. He nodded that this was it and began to put it on.

"The pay," said the guard.

I took a ten-credit note from my pocket, a pretty big sum for a guard in Spiteos.

The guard looked at it like it had kicked him. "Ten!" he snarled. "I had to pay sixty credits to redeem that watch!" He made a lunge at Jettero to grab it back.

I snatched at the monster's shoulder to spin him off course. It flung him backwards and he reared up and tripped on his own feet. He hit the side of the wire cage and went down on his knees.

He was absolutely frothing!

"I'll murder you!" he screamed, starting to lunge.

I raised the blastick to kill him.

Abruptly, my blastick went spinning!

There was a blur. Heller's right wrist caught the guard across the throat with a strike that lifted him clean off the floor!

The monster hit the wall with a thud!

He crumpled down like a disjointed doll. He was bleeding from the mouth, out cold.

Jettero picked up the blastick, put its safety catch on and handed it to me. "Never kill a fellow when you don't have to," he said quietly.

He inspected the guard. "He's still alive. Give me seventy credits." And he held out his hand to me.

Numbly, I fished out sixty more credits and added the ten from the floor. Jettero took them from me. Kneeling by the guard, he tapped the cheeks until the fellow started to come around.

Jettero held the seventy credits in front of the monster. "Here's your money. Thank you for the watch." And then it was the cold, not-to-be-disputed voice of a Fleet officer, unmistakable. "Now return to your post and that's the end of it." The guard heard it. He took the money and walked off as quietly as though he had just looked in for a casual call. Indeed, that wasthe end of it.

"Now let's look at that alleged document," said Heller.