ter black
of space. He pushed his control to "1/2," and the space closed in about
them. Arcot held it there while the chronometer moved through six and a
half seconds. Sirius was at a distance almost planetary in its magnitude
from them. Controlling directly now, he brought the ship closer, till a
planet loomed large before them--a large world, its rocky continents,
its rolling oceans and jagged valleys white under the enormous
energy-flood from the gigantic star of Sirius, twenty-six times more
brilliant than the sun they had left.

"But, Arcot, hadn't you better take it easy?" Wade asked. "They might
take us for enemies--which wouldn't be so good."

"I suppose it would be wise to go slowly. I had planned, as a matter of
fact, on looking up a Thessian ship, taking a chance on a fight, and
proving our friendship," replied Arcot.

Morey saw Arcot's logic--then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Absolutely--attack a Thessian. But since we don't see any around now,
we'll have to make one!"

Wade was completely mystified, and gave Morey a doubtful, sarcastic
look. "Sounds like a good idea, only I wonder if this constant terrific
mental strain--"

"Come along and find out!" Arcot threw the ship into artificial space
for safety, holding it motionless. The planet, invisible to them,
retreated from their motionless ship.

In the artificial matter control room, Arcot set to work, and developed
a very considerable string of forms on his board, the equations of their
formations requiring all the available formation controls.

"Now," said Arcot at last, "you stay here, Morey, and when I give the
signal, create the thing back of the nearest range of hills, raise it,
and send it toward us."

At once they returned to normal space, and darted down toward the now
distant planet. They landed again near another city, one which was
situated close to a range of mountains ideally suited to their purposes.
They settled, while Zezdon Afthen sent out the message of friendship. He
finally succeeded in getting some reaction, a sensation of scepticism,
of distrust--but of interest. They needed friends, and only hoped that
these were friends. Arcot pushed a little signal button, and Morey began
his share of the play. From behind a low hill a slim, pointed form
emerged, a beautifully streamlined ship, the lines obviously those of a
Thessian, the windows streaming light, while the visible ionization
about the hull proclaimed its molecular ray s