the _Tora_ (this
was the great armed diskoid of the Mercutians that had previously
reduced Great New York, Hilary found out afterwards) to resume his
station over the city, ready to act when I give the signal."

Even in the conflict of emotions, Hilary marveled at the
unhesitating, snapped flow of orders. The Viceroy, in spite of his
seeming gross lethargy, was a soldier, and an efficient one to boot.

"Yes, Magnificent." Urga bowed low, and departed, thrusting a
malignant glance at Hilary.

* * * * *

The Viceroy thrust off from him his bright yellow robes, wriggled his
vast bulk swiftly into a close-fitting dull-gray tunic. To his belt he
fastened little round knobs; the sun-tube dangled swankily at one
side. He was accoutered for battle.

He seemed to have forgotten the existence of the Earthlings.

"You," he snapped to one of the waiting guards, "go to the laboratory
at once; convey my strict orders to Cor Eela that the weather machine
must function perfectly. There must be no slip-up--his life will
answer for it."

"Yes, oh Magnificence." The guard prostrated himself once more, then
departed hastily.

Vast echoes resounded in Hilary's mind. "Weather machine--weather
machine," he puzzled, holding Joan the tighter. There was more to this
than met the eye. He must think.

The Viceroy turned suddenly, stared at them, fingering his tube.

"I could of course have you killed at once," he thought aloud, "and
have no further trouble; but then Urga would be angry." His lidless
eyes rested fleetingly on Joan. "And I would lose my public warning to
the few Earth dogs who will survive. If it weren't that I needed them
to till the fields, and work the machines, I would not leave a single
one alive."

He seemed to come to a decision. "You'll wait my return." He spoke
sharply to the guard. "Bind them up well. Thrust gags into their
mouths." He grimaced. "I can taste mine yet. And remember, if they
escape, just turn that sun-tube of yours on yourself. It will be
pleasanter for you. Understand?"

"Yes, Magnificent."

The obsequious guard caught hold of Hilary, under the watchful tube of
Artok, and proceeded with clumsy weighted fingers to tie him up.
Hilary did not resist. An idea was slowly forming in his mind. Joan's
turn came next.

When they were trussed so tightly that neither could move, the Viceroy
smiled mockingly. "We shall meet again, Earth dogs," he said, and was
gone.