Quickly stripping the protecting cloak from her body, the green-bronze one held the struggling girl gingerly but with a grip of iron.  His eyes bulged from their sockets, and the other guard staggered backward with hands outstretched as if to ward off an evil spell that might be cast by this supernatural visitant.

Blaine thrust his arm through the folds of his coat, ray pistol in hand.  A crazy laugh forced itself to his lips at sight of the detached member, stretched there, tensed, drifting in mid-air.  The pistol prodded Ulana’s captor viciously.

“Hands off of her!” the voice behind the lone arm was snarling.  “Hands off, or I fire!”

The girl slipped to the floor in a heap as the amazed guard loosed his grip.  And, in the same instant, the blue flame spurted.  He had not intended to press the release; it was useless anyway to battle the entire outfit.  But the blood lust was upon him and a savage joy in the destruction of this beast who had dared lay hands on Ulana impelled him to turn on the other.  Blindly he swung, clubbing the pistol and beating in the ghastly face that wobbled there upon the spineless, superstition-bound body.

Others were coming then, hundreds of them it seemed.  The pale face of Dantor appeared for an instant in the background, through the red haze that was blinding him.  He only knew he was fighting desperately, viciously, and against impossible odds.  The satisfying crunch of his left fist against a leering green-bronze face was followed by an excruciating pain as one of his knuckles was driven back.  Hardly knowing he had pressed the release of the ray, he was mildly astonished to see that two of the guards were enveloped in the blue vapor.  Scintillant tiny sunbursts within the blue.  Two less of those devils!  His pistol was empty and he flung it into a grinning face; he saw the blood spurt and the face change shape, crushed beyond human resemblance.

He was down then, gasping for breath against the floor plates.  The weight upon him was enormous; crushing.  If only they’d quit squirming so ... and pounding ... reminded him of his old football days ... some scrimmage!

Abruptly came the blankness of insensibility.

Dimly at first, in the painful throbbings of returning consciousness, Blaine knew he was in one of the Llott workshops where machines hummed and pounded and where many operatives were busily engaged.  A cool hand stroked his aching brow and he opened his eyes.  Ulana!  They had spared her.  Alert on the instant, he was acutely aware of the babbling of voices close at hand.  Ianito was there, at the base of the huge telescope, talking with Dantor, his voice raised excitedly.  The monorail crew stood by, and he noted with grim satisfaction that several of them were as badly damaged as he could wish.

His gaze returned to the sweet face that bent so near.  Weakly he drew the golden head to his breast; held it there a moment, thinking, hoping, planning.  Then he sat up on the edge of the low couch on which he had been placed, regarding her anxiously.  Evidently they had not harmed her-as yet.

Ianito had dismissed the green-bronze ones and was approaching the couch.  Dantor was with him, lagging a little and pressing a finger to his lips; shaking his head gravely to warn them.  They must not speak of the plans made in the Tritu Anu; must not talk.

The Dictator was regarding them now with hard eyes.  But it seemed almost that something of admiration or respect, something of human-like emotion was in his cold stare.

“Hah!” he grunted, at last.  “These two are in love, Dantor.  It is as you explained.  It is good, and fits in with my plans to a nicety.  I shall spare the life of the Earth man on account of his knowledge of the inner planets; I can use him later.  The girl I shall spare for a different reason, and that fits in with my plans as well.”

What did he mean by that last crack, the grinning devil?  A sinister intent was there, behind his smooth talk.  Blaine half rose from his seat in quick anger, but the girl’s gentle touch on his arm restrained him.  She depended on him now and he’d have to go easy until the proper time came.

“Impetuous, aren’t they?” Ianito was saying, “these Earth men.  A characteristic that must get them into much trouble, even in their own world.”

Laughing at him, this hell-hound!  Blaine gritted his teeth.

The Dictator addressed him directly.  “You are a fortunate young man,” he drawled sarcastically.  “You have slain several of my trusted retainers and by so doing have forfeited your right to life.  But Ianito is forgiving.  Mechanized, you will be of value to me when the great day comes.  And it pleases me that you are so deeply attached to the Rulan maiden; it pleases me greatly.”

“Why?” Blaine snapped, a great rage consuming him.  Only the pressure of Ulana’s fingers held him back.  He would have to control his temper or he’d make a mess of things.

“Because, my dear Carson, it will so displease the Zara.”

With this cryptic remark he turned on his heel and left them.  A number of his technical experts awaited him at the eyepiece of the great telescope.

Dantor whispered swiftly before following him, “Keep up your courage, Carson.  A way may yet be found.”

The group by the telescope was an excited one.  Something had occurred which must be of great moment.  It came to Blaine in a flash that the reverberations of the copper shell of Antrid had ceased.  The rocket-tube was silent.

“I don’t know why we shouldn’t be in on this,” he said to the girl.  “Let’s go over there and see what it’s all about.”

One of the astronomers was reporting to Ianito, referring to a sheet of calculations he held in nervous fingers.  “Our orbital velocity has increased greatly,” he was saying, “and the new path lies at an average distance of eighty-three erds from the mother planet.  According to my figures it will require six more charges to free us from her pull and another to redirect us toward our destination.”

Eighty-three erds!  Practically a million Earth miles.  Already they had swung out to a new orbit between those of Ganymede and Callisto.  And what of the effect on the other satellites?  Blaine listened carefully as the astronomer continued.

“Perturbations in the movements of the other bodies in our own system are marked, and, in the case of the first satellite, have proved disastrous.  It has commenced its inward journey and soon will have fallen into the gaseous envelope of the mother body.  But this need occasion us no concern; it is small and there will be stabilization of the others after the second charge is fired.”

Colossal conceit!  What amazing ignorance or oversight of natural laws!  These Llott scientists could see no farther than their snub noses, or at least no farther than the satellite system of Jupiter.  And Ianito was complimenting the astronomer on his good work!

The group broke up now and the Dictator turned to the controls of his crystal sphere.  Blaine and Ulana caught the view of the underground laboratory at the base of the great rocket-tube.

All was as it had been when they first saw this chamber.  The breech of the huge cannon had cooled and its massive block was open.  Tommy was there, fishing the radium capsule from the powdery residue in order that it might be used in exciting the next charge.  A mechanical precision marked his every motion.

“It is good,” Ianito grunted, flicking a lever that cut off the view.  “We are progressing nicely, thanks to the generosity of the Earth beings in providing this k-metal.”

His sarcastic grin was infuriating.  Dantor cast a warning look in the Earth man’s direction.  It wouldn’t do to lock horns with this self-satisfied despot; at any rate, not now.  Blaine’s mien was expressionless as he faced him.

The view in the crystal was another familiar one when Ianito made a quick readjustment:  the throne room in the palace of the Zara!  The Dictator snorted when he saw that Clyone was reclining lazily on her golden couch, submitting graciously to the ministrations of her handmaidens.

“Faithless creature!” he snarled.  “Harlot!  Parricide!  But at last Ianito will have his revenge.”

The hate in his voice and in those terrible glass-hard eyes was devastating in its intensity:  implacable, relentless.  Yet Blaine could not down the exultant feeling that came to him when he saw that this monster could suffer, too.

“What’s the matter?” he sneered.  “Did she throw you down?” He could have bitten off his tongue as he spoke.  Ulana gasped.

And if Ianito had been in a rage before he was a madman now.  Despite his contempt of the misshapen creature, Blaine quailed before the murderous glare that answered his rash words.  But the Dictator was master of himself, at that; his lips tightened in a thin line and he held his peace.  He actually smiled after a moment, the devil, a smile, though, of evil triumph.  He turned once more to the crystal and switched on the sound mechanism.

“Clyone,” he called, in velvety voice; “it is Ianito.”

She looked up, startled, her chalky face gone whiter still.  Her jeweled fingers fluttered to the smooth throat.

“I hear you,” she replied shakily.  “What do you wish of me.”

“Nothing much-this time.  I have visitors who request an audience with you, oh Clyone.  Can you see them at once?”

“Who-who are they?” Her eyes widened at his insinuating tone.

“An Earth man-Carson-and the Rulan maiden who is to become his mate.”  Ianito chuckled evilly as he watched her expression.

“Carson?” she whispered, her wild eyes softening, “He-he lives?” Black hatred replaced the wondering joy that had glowed in her face.  She was thinking of the statement regarding the Rulan maiden.  “Why, yes,” she snapped, suddenly very much alert; “I can see them.  Send them immediately.”

The Dictator chortled as he switched off the power.  Dantor paled and looked away.  So this was his scheme!  He was sending Ulana to certain death at the hands of the leopard woman.  Blaine bit his lips until they bled.  If only he had one of their ray pistols again.  If he had-

Ianito was at his side, whispering.  But he couldn’t see him; the devil had donned one of Dantor’s invisible cloaks.  Something hard pressed deep into his ribs.

“I shall be with you,” the Dictator told him, “but she will not know.  It is necessary, of course, that I watch over you in order that your deportment be suitable to the occasion.  The death ray of Antrid is ready in my hands.  Proceed, you and the Rulan maid, and see to it that you give her every attention while in the Zara’s presence.”

Dantor interposed an objection, “But, Ianito, you promised to spare them.  I learned to love these two and want no harm to come their way.”

“I keep my promise, oh Dantor.  Ianito will not harm them.”

“But the Zara.”

“What Clyone does is none of my concern.  Silence, Dantor; I command it!  You will remain here.”  The voice of the Dictator cut like a knife.

The old Rulan scientist bowed his head and turned away.  Good old Dantor!  He’d done all in his power to help them.  This was the end; not a question of doubt.  Blaine Carson drew the Rulan maiden fiercely to him.  This Clyone might meet some opposition if she attempted to wreak her spite on Ulana; she would meet it.  There was no need for Ianito to ask that he pay every attention to the lovely, frightened girl who clung to him so trustingly.

They were in the lift then, dropping swiftly into the palace beneath the great dome that topped Antrid.

“This Clyone,” Ulana whispered, “she has great power of enticement, my Carson.  I fear for your loss-to me.  She will take you from me, and I shall be alone-or dead.  Death would be the better.”

“Never!” said Blaine huskily.  “Never, my dear.  She has no power over me; nor will I permit her to bring suffering to you.”

Ianito laughed then, an ugly cackle that came out of the unseen.