guess at, whose meaning mystified him more than anything yet
experienced. The thought might have emanated from Luar, or from Dalis.
But the more he thought of the matter, the more he thought how the
phrasing of the thought was like the telepathy of Sarka the Second,
now thousands of miles away, upon the Earth. And this was the thought:

"If they fight the flames, the flames will destroy them! If they go
into them freely, voluntarily, they will be rendered immune to heat
and to cold, to life and to death. But it is better that they die, for
Earth's sake!"

What did it mean?

* * * * *

Sarka thought of the radiant white light which perpetually bathed the
person of Luar, and thought that he had somehow been given a hint of
its source. If the Gens of Dalis were voluntarily bathed in the lake
of white flames, would they become as Luar?

Somehow, though he knew that such bathing would save their lives, the
idea filled him anew with horror. He found himself torn between two
duties. If he sent his thought out there to the Gens of Dalis, people
of Earth, his people, they would be saved, but might forever become
allies of the people of the Moon. If Sarka did not tell them, they
would die--and there were millions of them.

But his science had always been a science of Life, and it still was.

"Enter the flames!" he telepathically bade his people. "Enter the
flames!"

But they did not heed him, and for the first time the atmosphere of
the interior of the globe seemed filled with savage, abysmal menace!
Plain to Sarka was the meaning of that menace: The cubes which
composed this globe were loyal to their masters, the masters to a
mistress, Luar, and would countenance no meddling.

Likewise it was impossible, if the Gnomes willed it to the cubes, for
Sarka to transmit his thoughts to the Gens of Dalis through the
transparent walls of the globe!

They were prisoners, indeed, of Dalis and of Luar!

* * * * *

But could Sarka and Jaska turn their new-found knowledge to their own
use? Sarka was thinking back, back to one of the ancient tomes of his
people. It spoke, someplace, of a man who had got trapped in the heart
of a seething volcano, where the heat of it had cured him of his
illnesses, made him whole again, given him new youth and freshness.

But since the cubes could forestall his transmission of thought, and
perhaps could read and understand thoughts,