“What we've got to do now is reverse direction on the vein and drift along it into the mountain. It will be much faster since we can blast now.

“So rig this cage again so it doesn't slip and get to work mining up that vein. We have about sixty days left until Day 92. Probably we will have to deliver the gold by Day 86. So get going and hope!”

“And pray.”, added the parson.

A very masterful Terl sat in the morning sunlight of his office, pen held in claws, carefully not trembling. He was about to write the report and round off his perfect crime.

His day was efficiently planned. He would write the report, get the latest recon pictures after the drone passed over, and, if the animals were there, fire the drone. Zzt was nattering to anybody that would listen that it blocked the hangar firing gate and he could not get ore freighters in and out to service them, and so Terl would get Zzt to insist he fire it to save space. Then he would see Ker and threaten him into being cooperative as the new Planet Head.

But Terl somehow felt unhappy. This morning sunlight, dancing across his rug, even though filtered by the colored lead glass of the canopy, was a reminder he was still on this accursed planet. Gone were his dreams of a wealthy Terl, living in luxury on Psychlo. But no matter. One had to do what one had to do.

For the tenth time he started to write the report. So far, he had not gotten through the first line of the heading, much less the report. Something was nagging him.

Ah, yes! He didn't have Jayed's badge or badge number! The agent had been reaching into his shirt, undoubtedly to show him the badge and identification disc of an I.B.I. operative. Also, if he knew the medical department, they had just dumped the bodies on the benches and he had better put them on ledges.

By plan he would have to have ten bodies. He now had five, counting the three guards that had blown themselves up. He sighed. It had been

a beautiful plan: put the gold in the coffins, ship them home, and when he returned there, dig up the coffins some dark Psychlo night, melt them down, and lord it over everyone as a very rich fellow! Well, that was all finished now. The arrival of Jayed had ended it. And the treacherous animals had betrayed him.

He needed the badge and I.B.I. identification number. He would feel better if he cuffed Jayed's body a time or two. He picked up a breathe-mask and went out of the compound.

As he passed the cage of the females he noticed a bundle of food and firewood had been left outside the gate. He gave it a kick and would have passed on when he realized that “psychic powers” might prematurely alert the animals in the mountains. He shut off the electrical circuit with his remote, opened the cage door, and threw the bundle violently at the two females. It landed in their fire and the small one scrambled to salvage it before it burned. He noticed the other one was holding a stainless steel man-knife from some old ruin. He went over and wrested it out of her hand. Then, remembering “psychic powers,” he attempted to pat her on the head.

She didn't seem to like it.

Terl put the knife in his belt, went out, reconnected the juice, and stuffed the remote in his breast pocket. The younger one was saying something in man-language, something undoubtedly harsh. Treacherous creatures, these animals. Well, all that would be handled soon. After the gas drone had done its work he'd be through with this pair. And good riddance.

He rumbled on down to the morgue, and sure enough the medicals had just dumped the bodies and not even on a bench! He turned on the lights, closed the door, and hoisted a thousand pounds of Numph onto a shelf. Even in death the old bungler looked stupid, an expression of amazement still on his face. Not all the blood had dried yet and Terl got it on his hands. He wiped them off on Numph's coat.

Jayed's body was surprisingly light, not more than seven hundred pounds. Terl plunked it down on a table and cuffed it.

“Blast you,” said Terl to the corpse. "lf you hadn't shown up my future would have been a beautiful dream.” He cuffed the face again.

Mange. The creature had mange. Terl looked at the corpse sourly. Then he reached over and, with clenched fangs, gripped its throat and choked it. He threw the head back and it hit the table with a thud. Terl cuffed it again.

He took hold of himself. He had to be calm, cool, competent. Where was the badge? He patted the jacket and couldn't feel any lump.

Maybe Jayed had carried the badge in his boots. Hollow soles were an I.B.I. specialty. He pulled the boots off and examined them. No hollow soles.

Blast it, the fellow carried his badge somewhere! Terl patted the ragged trousers. Nothing. He stood back from the corpse. What a pitiful spectacle this Jayed was! The clothes were full of holes. The fur was diseased.

Where was it! He had been reaching for something! Terl ripped the bloodied shirt and jacket with a jerk that bared the chest. He examined the rags that had torn off in his paws. Nothing in them. Then he noticed the chest. He stared.

The three horizontal bands! The brand of a criminal.

The rags fell from Terl's talons. He bent closer, staring at the chest.

No mistake.

The criminal brand.

He bent closer and scraped at it. No, it was actually burned in!

He gave it an expert appraisal. It was about a year old.

Hastily he turned and seized the right ankle of the corpse. Yes! The shackle scars, complete with the barb marks, of the imperial prison. A closer look. Also about a year old.

Terl backed up to the wall and stared at the corpse.

It was not an unfamiliar story. An official or an agent had committed a crime in the performance of duty or had been stupid enough to tamper with a crime committed by the aristocracy, had been drummed out of his position and thrown into the imperial prisons.

Suddenly Terl knew exactly what Jayed had done. He had used his talents to escape. He had forged papers as "Snit" and he had worked his way through the personnel lineup of Intergalactic Mining and gotten himself shipped to the farthest outpost of the company. Jayed had been on the run!

It hit Terl like a thunderbolt. Jayed had not been investigating anything here! Jayed was in hiding. His gesture to his chest was to show Terl the brand and put himself at Terl's mercy. And it would have worked! Terl could have used him in devious ways.

All these months of worry! All about nothing.

Terl looked at the pitiful, mangy creature on the table. It was a good thing the door was closed because for quite a while Terl couldn't stop laughing.

Once more that day, Terl was sitting at his desk. He was relaxed, at ease. There was a saucepan of kerbango there and he wasn't even chewing on it.

His pen moved easily on the report. This changed the whole thing. It was very simple.

Despite warning Numph to be watchful– copy of warning enclosed-due to the number of criminals in the work force, a criminal whose papers said his name was "Snit" had gotten into the offices with probable intent to rob and walked in on Numph, who had shot him. Before he died the criminal had shot Numph. Witnessed statements to hand and enclosed. The personnel department in the home office could possibly institute physical examinations as this was the second branded criminal received in recent drafts of personnel. It was, of course, necessary for the company to make a profit and understandable that this was a very out-of-the-way planet, but it had only one security officer. But the matter was actually of no great importance, and one would not venture to criticize the practices of the home office since they knew what they were doing. Situation well in hand. A recently appointed deputy had competently assumed the duties of Planet Head. The crime was simple and routine. Bodies en route at next semiannual firing.