fours, dozens, came the glowing people who
had been bathed in the white flames of the Moon's life-source, and as
each dropped down beside him, Sarka gave a command.

"Drop down in the midst of the cubes! Make your own cube the rallying
point for this vast army of cubes, force the cubes to desist in their
mighty destruction, be subservient to your will--and do you, each of
you, be subservient to _my_ will!"

* * * * *

Away dropped the rebels, glowing points of white flame, dropping down
the sides of the crevasse, a mighty, awesome canyon, into the very heart
of the activity of the cubes, and from the brain of Sarka, aided by the
will of Jaska, went forth a simple command:

"Cease your march of destruction, O Moon-cubes, and harken to the will
of Sarka, your master! Draw back from your labors, and muster, not as
squares, rectangles and columns, but as individual cubes, in the area
already devastated by you! Rally about the glowing people who have
passed through the flames which were your Moon-mother, and wait for
orders! Take no further heed of commands from Dalis and Luar!"

Instantly it seemed to Sarka that he had drawn into some invisible
vortex which tore at his brain, at his body, at his soul. Inside him a
cold voice seemed to say:

"Fool, Sarka! My will is greater than yours!"

But though the force of the will of Luar, whose thought he recognized,
tore at him, almost shriveled the soul and brain of him with its might,
he continued to send his thought-command out to the Moon-cubes, forcing
it through the wall of Luar's will, hurling it like invisible
projectiles at the cube-army below.

Exultation possessed him, buoyed him up, gave him greater courage and
confidence as the moments passed for even as all his being concentrated
on the will-command to the cubes, his senses told him that the mighty
sound of destruction was dying away, fading out.

* * * * *

Slower now the dwellings fell, slower moved the Moon-cubes; and as they
slowed in their mighty march through the dwellings of men, so increased
the confidence, the power of will, of Sarka and his people--the rebels
of the Gens of Dalis.

Then, after an hour, whose mighty mental conflict had bathed Sarka in
the perspiration of superhuman effort, the sound of destruction ceased
all together, and the dwellings ceased to fall.

A silent shout, like an inborn paean of rejoicing, surged through S