Jonnie ate a banana. Then he found some millet bread and made himself a sandwich from local beef. He had quite a hard time selecting the exact right slices. The huge Psychlo wrist watch on his wrist was whirring off the seconds and minutes. He had marked it for the hour.

“What are these charges all about?” said Jonnie.

Lars smiled very thinly. He was being pumped for confidential Council information. “You will be told in the proper time by the proper people.”

Jonnie finished the sandwich and found some wild berries. He ate these. The wrist watch whirred along. Forty-nine minutes to go.

He looked into the food bags and discovered some wild sugar cane from Africa. He peeled it with care and chewed on it, sipping from a gourd between times.

Then it occurred to him if they were all silent, Angus or Ker might come busting in here to see whether he was gone. Angus would suppose Jonnie had taken his kit to the plane, but still, they might just come barging in and get arrested or shot. Very shortly now he had better start this Lars talking so they would hear a strange voice in here.

Forty-two minutes to go.

“You sure messed up my clothes,” said Jonnie. "I’ll have to repack.”

But Lars was intent on something else. He wanted a real double-check on identity and in his haste he had forgotten it. He wanted to make doubly sure about the collar scars. He became clever. A military maneuver was needed here. He didn't want this Tyler to be able to seize a Brigante and use him as a shield. Right now the collar of the work jacket covered his neck.

“There is no idea of inconveniencing you,” said Lars. “You are in your work clothes and I should think you would want to appear at your best before such an august body as the Council. You can change your clothes if you wish. We've removed all knives and weapons. So go ahead.”

Jonnie had smiled wryly when “august body of the Council” was mentioned. What pomposity! But he said, “Oh, well, in that case I suppose I had better.”

He began to sort the scattered clothes into piles, making noise. It would be better if he could keep Lars talking. Thirty-nine minutes to go.

Ker certainly had brought all of Stormalong's kit. He folded it all neatly and then began picking up items and looking at them critically as though deciding which he should wear, saying, “Would this do?” and “How about this?” and “How do they ordinarily dress when appearing before the Council? In something like this?” He got Lars advising him. The Council was very formal, very strict and mindful of its dignity, and its power was enormous and men were expected to realize it. Twenty-eight minutes to go.

Jonnie suddenly saw that Stormalong, who was always very neat as well as a bit dashing about clothes, had preserved the costume he had been issued in lode days to look like Jonnie.

Chrissie had made several sets, pushed into it by Jonnie to take her mind off her imprisonment, and Jonnie had handed out sets to Dunneldeen, Thor, and Stormalong to improve their duplication. He unwrapped the buckskin hunting shirt and breeches and belt. Yes, even the moccasins. Twenty-three minutes to go!

Jonnie took off his jacket, intending to sponge off a bit before dressing.

Lars leaned forward eagerly. Terl had told him that a good security chief always depended upon body marks for identification. How right! There were the small scars of the collar. He had his man. He became inwardly jubilant. Cheerful.

“You can hurry it along now, Tyler," said Lars. “I know you for sure. The collar scars!”

So that's what he had been looking for, thought Jonnie.

“The others left hours ago, didn't they?” said Lars.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact they did,” said Jonnie. It came to him that the others had been logged out when they went to the Academy to install the recorders and must not have been logged back in. Great! Twenty minutes to go.

“And you stayed behind to rig some little tricks of your own, didn't you?” said Lars. “We'll find them later, never fear. Your masquerade is over, Tyler." Lars thought that was pretty good. He had thought it up himself. “Get dressed.”

Jonnie took a piece of buckskin and gave himself a sponge bath, a procedure looked upon with total amazement by the Brigantes. They had never seen nor heard of anyone ever taking a bath.

“How did you get onto me?” asked Jonnie.

"I’m afraid,” said Lars, “that that is a state secret.”

“Ah,” said Jonnie. Seventeen minutes to go! “Something you learned from Hitter or Bitter or whomever that was?” He recalled Ker mentioning this fellow was crazy on the subject.

“You mean Hitler!" corrected Lars angrily.

“Ah, 'Hitler,' " said Jonnie. “That doesn't sound like a Psychlo name. Psychlo names aren't two syllables, usually. Sometimes they are, though.”

“Hitler was not a Psychlo!” said Lars emphatically. “He was a man. He was the greatest military leader and the holiest church member man ever had!”

“Must have been a long time ago,” said Jonnie. Fifteen minutes and seventeen seconds to go! They were almost in the clear for their forty-five minutes. But it could be an hour.

Well, yes, said Lars, it was a long time ago. How'd Lars ever find out about Hitler? Well, his family was from Sweden and they were very literate. In fact his father was a minister. And they had some old books the church had kept that had been printed by the

“German War Propaganda Ministry” in the purest Swedish and it really was inspirational. It seems that to be really religious, one had to be a pure Aryan and an Aryan was really a Swede. Most people in the tribe had the colossal nerve to scoff at such holy creeds, but it had been the state religion of Sweden.

“I wish I’d heard about him sooner,” said Jonnie. Twelve minutes and seven seconds to go! “Was he really a great leader?”

Oh, indeed he was, make no mistake about that. Hitler had conquered the whole world and enforced racial purity. You should really read those books. They are truly marvelous. Oh, you can't read Swedish? Well, I could read them to you. What's some parts of them? Oh, well, it would take weeks to cover it all, but for instance there's a part of a book called "Mein Kampf!' that outlines the whole destiny of the race. You see, there are really supermen and just plain men. And to be a superman one has to study and know the religious creed of fascism.

“Did they worship god?” said Jonnie. Seven minutes and twelve seconds to go. He began to dress, taking care with the thongs.

Well, of course. God's real name was Der Fuehrer but Hitler had taken his place on Earth to make a world of peace and goodwill. Now Napoleon was also a military leader and before him was Caesar and before him was Alexander the Great and before him was Attila the Hun. But these men were not holy. One really had to know history to tell the difference. Now even though Napoleon was a great military leader, on many points he didn't favorably compare with Hitler. Even though Napoleon had conquered Russia, he did not show the finesse Hitler showed when he conquered

Russia. Now all this was very ancient and a long time ago and man had come to grief since, though not through any fault of Hitler's. So it was obvious that if man were to rise and be great again they should follow the creed of religious fascism, and who knew but what some new Hitler might arise to bring peace on Earth and goodwill toward men like Hitler had. It 's a funny thing, you know, but his mother used to say when she looked at the old pictures that he, Lars, quite closely resembled-

The distant roar of a car starting up. The snarl of its going around the ramps to exit. The unmistakable mad driving of Ker! They were gone.

Jonnie finished dressing, packed the kit, especially Stormalong's favorite coat and scarf and goggles, and bundled it all up.

“You will be sure this gets to