to the still
body of Ventnor.

"Tell her what I say, Goodwin. I mean it."

I shook my head. That was not the way, I knew. I looked toward the Disk,
still flanked with its sextette of spheres, still guarded by the flaming
blue stars. They were motionless, calm, watching. I sensed no hostility,
no anger; it was as though they were waiting for us to--to--waiting for
us to do what?

It came to me--they were indifferent. That was it--as indifferent as we
could be to the struggle of an ephemera; and as mildly curious.

"Norhala," I turned to the woman, "she would not have him suffer; she
would not have him die. She loves him."

"Love?" she repeated, and all of her wonderment seemed crystallized in
the word. "Love?" she asked.

"She loves him," I said; and then, why I did not know, but I added,
pointing to Drake: "and he loves her."

There was a tiny, astonished sob from Ruth. Again Norhala brooded over
her. Then with a little despairing shake of her head, she paced over and
faced the great Disk.

Tensely we waited. Communication there was between them, interchange
of--thought; how carried out I would not hazard even to myself.

But of a surety these two--the goddess woman, the wholly unhuman shape
of metal, of jeweled fires and conscious force--understood each other.

For she turned, stood aside--and the body of Ventnor quivered, arose
from the floor, stood upright and with closed eyes, head dropping upon
one shoulder, glided toward the Disk like a dead man carried by those
messengers never seen by man who, the Arabs believe, bear the death
drugged souls before Allah for their awakening.

Ruth moaned and hid her eyes; Drake reached down, gathered her up in his
arms, held her close.

Ventnor's body stood before the Disk, then swam up along its face. The
tendrils waved out, felt of it, thrust themselves down through the wide
collar of the shirt. The floating form passed higher, over the edge of
the Disk; lay high beside the right star point of the rayed shape to
which Ruth had been passing when Ventnor's shot brought the tragedy upon
us. I saw other tentacles whip forth, examine, caress.

Then down the body swung, was borne through air, laid gently at our
feet.

"He is not--dead," it was Norhala beside me; she lifted Ruth's face from
Drake's breast. "He will not die. It may be he will walk again. They
can not help," there was a shadow of apology in her tones. "They did
not know. They thought it was the"--sh