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some remnant of the Psychocrats, why, then even the weird difference in time they had worked out earlier could also be true! They could have been kept here in some state resembling stass-freeze. And that had been known to last for centuries of planet time!
    It was Yolyos who spoke. “You mentioned earlier, Turpyn, that this service was run for sale. Then you speak of it being a Mengian plot to regain their control. Which was it—transactions with those who had good reason to wish us personally out of the way, or a plot aimed at us simply because we held the positions that we did?”
    Turpyn shook his head. “That is one of the things I can’t answer, and it is ‘can’t’ and not ‘won’t,’ I assure you. I heard of this setup as a straight transaction. On payment, anyone selected would be taken, his android double substituted. Then there was a second rumor that the buyer himself was double-crossed. How true I can’t tell.”
    â€œBut to fashion such an android, implant it with the proper memories—how could they do it?” Elys wondered. “They would have to be almost flawless to deceive those who know us well. Such a process would take time. And if we did not lend ourselves to memory taping, how could they do it?”
    â€œIf the Mengians are the Psychocrats and they are responsible,” Andas said, though he shrank from what seemed the truth, “then they could do it, somehow. They did stranger things with men’s bodies and minds when they ruled.”
    â€œAll the more reason”—Grasty pushed forward—“for us to get back as quickly as possible and see what has happened, repair the damage—”
    He must not have considered time lapse, Andas decided. But to get away from here, yes, that was their first concern. Only how? Yolyos was already on that track.
    â€œYou know something of such installations as this.” He addressed Turpyn. “How do they get supplies? I do not believe that the food we have just eaten was grown from proto cells.”
    â€œBehind you is a ship call, but the setting suggests a robot autocontrol,” the Veep answered. “If any supply ship comes, it must also be robot, locked on a single course. In order to use it for escape, we shall have to substitute tapes, and where will you get another? Unless the ship has a collection—which is not always the equipment of a locked course transport.”
    â€œWhat is this room? There are records of some sort stored here.” Andas tried to fit his thumb into the release on the nearest cabinet and found it impossible.
    â€œLocked—on some personna lock.”
    â€œSince when has such a thing as a personna lock,” inquired Grasty, “kept a barrier intact when faced by a Guild tech? You can open these.”
    â€œGiven time and tools, yes,” Turpyn admitted.
    â€œYou’ll have both,” the Salariki promised. “Suppose we start looking for tools now.”
    Though Turpyn grumbled and swore that he probably could not find the delicate instruments he needed, he went to the smaller section of the outer room where one of the robots, halted like the rest in mid-section, had been engaged in repairing one of its fellows whose outer casing sat to one side. The main parts of its inner works were spread out on a bench.
    There the Veep picked and chose until he had a handful of small tools Andas could not identify. They had all trailed along to watch him, as if their united wills could spur him to greater efforts.
    With his possible pick-locks he went to the record room and set to work. That he was an artist in his field was clearly to be seen. Andas wondered at his dexterity. If he were a Veep, surely he would not be one of the general workmen of the Guild—unless there were criminal actions that fell to the upper class alone. At any rate, he knew what he was doing.
    It took a long time. Tsiwon pleaded fatigue and went