Purnell looked out the narrow window of the warden's office. The storm driving up the valley had reached them now and rain was beating fiercely against the plastic. He thought of the fugitive stumbling through the fury of the storm and of the two mertha coming closer and closer until the poor fellow's mind started cringing from the howling of these mental bloodhounds. He turned back to the warden.
"I noticed that you ran the mentape through the machine but didn't show the men any pictures of the escaped man. Are they familiar with his looks?"
"No. They have never seen the man, nor any picture of him." The warden paused to let this statement sink in, then went on before Purnell had a chance to speak. "There would be no use. The Zirthans cannot tell us apart by features. Not only do all of us humans look alike to them because we are alien, but they are not in the habit of using physical looks for such purposes. They have always used mental scanning for that. You notice the total lack of expression on their faces. Anger, hate, love, whatever emotion you think of, is expressed by a Zirthans thoughts, not by his facial expression. Telepathy has its advantages. Zirthans live in a world of mental calm and honesty that is unknown to us."
The more Purnell thought about this the more he realized that it would be true. To a telepath the mind is an infinitely better source of information than the face would be. And just think, no physical disguise would be of the slightest use.
"What if the man falls asleep? Can the mertha trace him then?"
"Yes," replied the warden. "Thoughts go on in sleep, as when we dream. The mertha can't detect a man as far away when he is asleep, but an escaped prisoner does not go to sleep until he puts as great a distance between him and his prison as he can."
The wind had grown stronger, so strong that the thick plastic over the window shivered slightly. Purnell thanked the galaxy that he wasn't out chasing an escaped prisoner. He never liked those jobs, regardless of the weather. He remembered once when he had gone out with hounds after a murderer. Closer and closer they had come, with the hounds baying and yelping. At the end they trapped the man in a cave and the dogs got in first. It was not a pretty sight and Purnell had found it too easy to think of himself in the other man's shoes. It didn't seem right.
He turned to the warden. "What happens when the mertha corner the fellow. Do they attack?"
"Not physically, but they leave terrible mental scars unless the men get there quickly and call them off. You saw how Jim acted when they came into the room. They weren't paying any attention to him, but he escaped once and the mertha tracked him down. Now he goes to pieces whenever he sees one of them."
Purnell grunted and pushed himself out of the chair. "It will be quite a while before they can catch him. I am going to the office you were helpful enough to lend me and work on my report. We can finish our business after you get this affair off your mind. Will you let me know how the chase comes out?"