Rynason shrugged. "Well, you've got to remember that this was an alien
machine; maybe that's the way they built them."

Manning threw a cold glance at him and poured a glass of Sector Three
brandy for himself. "You're not being amusing," he said shortly. "Now,
go on, and make some sense."

"I'd like to," Rynason said. "Frankly, my theory is that the machine was
a communication-link with the Outsiders. It could explain a lot of
things--maybe even the similarities in architecture."

Manning scowled and turned away from him. He paced heavily across the
room and looked out through the plasticene window at the nearly empty,
dust-strewn street for a few moments; when he returned the frown was
still on his face.

"Damn it, Lee, you're not keeping your mind on the problems here. While
you were looking into Horng's mind, how do you know he wasn't spying in
yours? You had an equal hookup, right?"

Rynason nodded. "I couldn't have prevented him in any case. Why? Are we
supposed to be hiding anything?"

"I told you not to trust them!" Manning snapped. "Now if you can't even
match wits with a senile horsehead...."

"You were the one who said they might be more adept at telepathy than we
are," Rynason said. "It was a chance we had to take."

"There's a difference between taking chances and handing them