The Guesser explained what had happened, his voice low. He told about having something thrown at him, about the beamgun being fired at him. He told about the girl, Deyla. He told everything in a monotonous undertone.
The captain nodded when he was through. "That tallies. It fits with the confession we got."
"Confession, sir?" The Guesser looked blank.
Captain Reed sighed. "You're supposed to be a Guesser. Tell me, do you think I personally, could beam you from behind?"
"You're the captain, sir."
"I don't mean for disciplinary purposes," the captain growled. "I mean from ambush."
"Well ... no, sir. As soon as I knew you were there, I'd be able to Guess where you'd fire. And I wouldn't be there."
"Then what kind of person would be able to throw something at you so that you'd Guess, so that you'd dodge, and be so preoccupied with that first dodging that you'd miss the Guess on the aiming of the beamgun because of sheer physical inertia? What kind of person would know exactly where you'd be when you dodged? What kind of person would know exactly where to aim that beamgun?"
The Guesser had seen what was coming long before the captain finished his wordy interrogation.
"Another Guesser, sir," he said. His eyes narrowed.