s the cast may be. The poor devils don't own
their own souls, if they're equipped with any. I'd rather be here,
expecting to be thrown into a cell by daylight!" He shivered in the
night chill.

They ran into a little luck when they needed it most. A roving taxi
swooped down upon them, hailed them for fares. They flew the rest of
the way in. Their luck held. A city policeman, noting their stumbling
walk as they lurched into a cheap hotel, did not trouble them for
their passes. He had seen many such men that night, soldier and
civilian, with clothes bloody and torn. The excitement of the day,
coupled with the fact that nearly everyone carried arms, had led to
numerous fights, not a few of which ended fatally.

"Merclite!" grinned the policeman, suppressing a hiccup of his own.
"And besides, that big 'un would make two of me."

CHAPTER X

_One Thousand to One_

The scheme that Sira had imparted to Wasil was simple--simple and
direct. Moreover, it was sure, provided it succeeded. Its execution
was something else again. Its chances were, mathematically expressed,
about as follows:

If every single detail worked as expected, a great and smashing
success. Ratio: 1:1,000.

If one single detail failed, immediate and certain death for Wasil.
Ratio: 1,000:1.

The princess knew that the power of Wilcox, his supporting oligarchy
and the interplanetary bankers, was all based on the skilful use of
propaganda. If the people of Mars and of Earth knew the forces that
were influencing them, their revulsion would be swift and terrible.
There would be no war. There would be events painful and disastrous to
their present rulers, but a great betterment of humanity's condition.

The key to the situation was the news monopoly, the complete control
of all broadcasting--of the stereo-screens, the teletabloids--that
colored all events to suit the ends of the ruling group. The people of
Mars as well as of Earth were capable of intelligent decision, of
straight thinking, but they rarely had an opportunity to learn the
truth.

They had now, by a knowing play on their emotions, directed by
psychologists, been wrought to a point of frenzy where they demanded
war. Their motives were of the highest in many individuals--pure
patriotism, the desire to make the solar system safe for civilization.
The bright, flaming spirit of self-sacrifice burned clear above the
haze and smoke of passion.

What would happen if all these eager millio