[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories March 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] When he reached Ophiuchus, Johnny Mayhem was wearing the body of an elderly Sirian gentleman. Nothing could have been more incongruous. The Sirian wore a pince-nez, a dignified two-piece jumper in a charcoal color, sedate two-tone boots and a black string-tie. The loiterers in the street near the Galactic Observer's

Shouting, "Not our women, too!" the little man attacked the girl, trying to drag her from the line. "It is bad enough our men, but not our women!" Pandit caught the fanatic's wiry arm and brought it behind his scrawny back in a hammerlock. "Leave her alone," he said. "If you try that again, I'll break your arm." The fanatic looked at Pandit with hate in his eyes, but stepped back and stood to one side mouthing invective. The girl, who was about twenty-five years old, had a livid mark on her arm.