"Yes," I said in a very muffled way.

"You will also not try to escape us. If you do try, your legs will feel like they are in flames. Understood?"

"Yes," I said.

"Now, Jettero is being good enough and kind enough to try to straighten out some of the things you have done on this planet. You are under direct and explicit orders to do everything he tells you to do. Understood?"

"Yes," I said, but I didn't like this. If I backed down on something she would know this helmet had not worked.

"If you fail to do what he tells you to do, you will at once start vomiting. Understood?"

"Yes," I muttered, secretly writhing. (Bleep) her! She had led me into a trap!

"Now, you will feel much better when you awake. You will be determined to help Jettero straighten out your life. You will now forget that these were my suggestions and think they are your own. Now, as to your wounds, they will heal rapidly. When you awake you will think that is why I hypnotized you. The wounds will heal rapidly. You will thank me for helping you. Understood?"

"Yes."

She turned off the helmet and removed it. She said, "Wake up now."

I carefully kept the fury I was feeling out of my voice. I said, "Thank you for helping me."

She put the helmet away and left.

I cursed a steady stream for minutes. Trapped! I had to obey Jettero Heller or they'd know the helmet didn't work and she would simply stamp me into a mangled mess.

They were all against me. Prahd, the base, the people of Turkey, even the songbird outside the window.

I swore a savage oath to every God I knew of, including Jesus Christ, that I would get even with them all, every one!

They all thought I was powerless. What they didn't know was that I was backed and had at my call the whole Voltar confederacy, if only I could get Heller and Krak home.

Far into the night I turned and twisted. And then, very late, I came to a decision. I would be very cunning while we still remained on this planet. I would pretend to go along with whatever Heller said. I only hoped that it did not prove too much for me to bear. I must do anything I could to get him to Voltar. Little did I know the suffering he planned for me the very next day! It was to prove completely every bad thing I had ever thought of him!

I could tell by the window that an early June dawn was barely breaking, and yet I was being gotten out of bed.

I knew they were up to some deviltry, because they would not talk.

Heller was there. He had on a stylish Panama hat, a summer-weight flannel business suit, a blue silk shirt and a dark blue polka-dot bow tie. I could tell from the boxback cut of the jacket that he had an automatic bolstered in the rear of his belt. He was carrying a gray suede attache case. He was just watching.

Two guards and a nurse were dressing me. They had brought over a conservative, dark blue suit and ensemble from my wardrobe. I protested. "This is cruelty. I am a wounded man and need my rest!" That was the third time I had said it and they still didn't stop.

Finally they shoved me out into the corridor. Heller nudged me along.

In the lobby I beheld Faht Bey. He was dressed in Western business clothes. He didn't even say good morning.

Heller pushed at me to make me go out the front door.

I stopped dead still on the steps.

There stood my Daimler-Benz with the red eagles on the door

"So you've even taken over my car!" I said.

Heller just nudged me to get in.

I looked back of us. The two guards and Faht Bey were climbing into a nondescript car from the base. Heller nudged me again and I climbed into the Daimler-Benz and sat down. He climbed in and sat beside me. And then something happened which infuriated me. Those two scoundrels Ters and Ahmed were sitting in the front seat. Ahmed turned around and winked at Heller!

"That man doesn't deserve any amnesty!" I snapped. "He's much more guilty of upsetting this area than I am! He raped the women! He even brought that agent in!"

"We've already discussed it," said Heller. "You're the one who gave the orders."

The injustice of it bit like a whip. Never mind. I'd tell Lombar and Ahmed would be shot. We rolled out onto the main road. Faht Bey and the other car followed.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

"You seem to have made quite a mess around here," said Heller. "You owe what they call kaffarah to a lot of villages; you owe the construction of a new mosque; and you signed some things, amongst them a bounced bank order for a dowry, on the Piastre National Bank. The manager of the local branch says nobody can make heads or tails of your finances. So we're going to call on a man who might be able to: Mudur Zengin in Istanbul."

I slid far down in my seat. The last man I wanted to see was Mudur Zengin. Teenie had said he was furious with me.

It quite spoiled my trip. I couldn't even think of ways to escape, I was so involved with trying to figure out what I might say to Mudur Zengin. I must owe him an absolute fortune in monies advanced by his bank.

We passed through the summer countryside of Turkey, but I saw none of it. We battled traffic through Uskudar on the Asian shore of the metropolis, but I gave it no heed. We crossed the Bosporus, but I was unmindful of the thick traffic below us on the water. We honked our way along Kemeralti Street in Beyoglu and still I cringed. We threaded a passage across the Golden Horn on the Galata Bridge and, wending through the hundreds of towers and minarets, were all too soon in front of the Piastre National Bank. I was exhausted from nearly three hundred miles of dread. It was going to get worse. Mudur Zengin said he would see Faht Bey, but when we all trooped into his office and he saw me, he looked like he was going to throw us out. Heller took the initiative. He looked around the ornate room and pulled three chairs up to the carved desk. "Do you mind if we sit down?" he said.

"I have no business with this man!" said Zengin, looking hard at me.

Heller pushed me into a chair and sat down himself. Faht Bey took the third.

Mudur Zengin still stood. He was shaking angrily.

"We're trying to straighten out his affairs," said Heller.

"The devil couldn't do that!" Mudur Zengin said. He only sat down so he could support his elbow and shake a finger at me. "Do you have any idea what this man has done?" He waited for no answer. "He had a princely allowance: He squandered it all and ate into the capital. He let a concubine run wild with credit cards and never said a word. He left the bank responsible for paying those bills and then he even bought a yacht. He went sailing gaily across the seven seas, having a marvelous time. We financed the yacht, we paid for all its expenses – we even helped him sell it for five times its value – and then he went running off and let the deal fall through."

"I think there's some possibility of straightening all this out," said Heller.

"You do?" said Mudur Zengin. "But not with this one! He committed the highest, greatest crime you could commit!" He sat back, disdain curling his lips. "When he mortgaged his property, HE WENT TO ANOTHER BANK!"

Heller said, "Certainly there is some way – "

"After an insult like that?" said Mudur Zengin. And he made a gesture like he'd gotten something nasty on his hands.

"I think," said Heller, "that you know Faht Bey."

"Yes, we do business with the companies he represents. I am very sorry and surprised to see him mixed up with such a man as And he indicated me.

"Well, Faht Bey and I are his family advisers," said Heller. "We came in just a little late on the scene."

"You certainly did!" said Mudur Zengin.

"Could you answer a question?" said Heller. "Could you tell me why your bank went on advancing money to pay his bills?"