"I know," Kunklin cut in. "So we need a Faktor to tell us where the base is. They're probably all over this city. I think I even saw one in the crowd." He stopped. "That's another thing," he said unhappily, "if there were Faktors in the crowd, they'll know a Galactic ship is here."
Prule grunted, peered down at the left side of the screen.
"Look, isn't that one?"
He indicated a small, furtive-looking man who was walking swiftly away from the area they had just left.
Kunklin adjusted for a close view.
"Yep." He moved to the instrument panel, worked carefully at a traversing mechanism. "Get down to the airlock. We'll suck him up."
"He'll die of fright," Prule predicted. "They always do."
Kunklin shrugged. "We have to try. Maybe this will be a strong one."
"Let's hope so."
Prule readied himself at the open airlock. Kunklin threw a switch, there was a deep, subtle hum, and a magnetic beam dosed down on the man below. He flipped straight up toward the ship, like a hooked minnow.