The gray creature rasped, "Ben--he not one of us. He thinks--different.
In thoughts--thinks escape. Earth."
* * * * *
Maggie paled. "He _is_ one of us, Simon." She stepped forward and
seized the Venusian's arm. "You go to your room. Stand guard. You guard
Ben just like you guard me. Understand?"
Simple Simon grunted, "I guard. If Ben go--I stop him. I stop him
good." He raised his huge hands suggestively.
"No, Simon! Remember what Jacob told you. We hurt no one. Ben is our
friend. You help him!"
The Venusian thought for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I help Ben.
But if go--stop."
She led the creature out of the room and closed the door.
"Whew," Ben sighed. "I'd heard those fellows were telepaths. Now I
_know_."
Maggie's trembling hands reached for a cigarette. "I--I guess I didn't
think, Ben. Venusians can't really read your mind, but they see your
feelings, your emotions. It's a logical evolutionary development,
I suppose. Auditory and visual communication are difficult here, so
evolution turned to empathy. And that's why Jacob keeps a few Venusians
in our group. They can detect any feeling of disloyalty before it
becomes serious."
Ben remembered Simple Simon's icy gaze and the way his rough hand had
gripped his heat pistol. "They could be dangerous."
"Not really. They're as loyal as Earth dogs to their masters. I mean
they wouldn't be dangerous to anyone who's loyal to us."
Silently, she helped him back to his bed.
"I'm sorry, Maggie--sorry I haven't decided yet."
She neither answered nor looked at him.
Grimly, he realized that his status had changed. He was no longer a
patient; he was a prisoner.
A Venusian day passed, and a Venusian night. The dust swirled and wind
blew, as constant as the whirl of indecision in Ben's mind.
Maggie was patient. Once, when she caught him gazing at Jacob's photo,
she asked, "Not yet?"