The guard looked bewildered, but he hauled Tamis to her feet, unlocked
the shackles. They fell to the floor with a clank.
Tamis straightened. Like the rest of the Unfit, she had been stripped
of her baggy coveralls. She looked like a painting of Psyche by
Boucher. She took one step....
"Keep hold of her wrist!" Priscilla cried.
But Tamis had vanished!