*

He backed away from the door, his gun trained on Thorn. And Thorn saw
that the continuous-fire stud was down. He walked composedly into the
red room in which he had once awakened. Sylva gave a little choked cry
at sight of him. She was standing, desperately defiant, on the other
side of the induction-screen area on the floor. There was a scorched
place on the floor where Thorn had shorted that screen and the bar of
metal had grown red-hot. Kreynborg threw the switch and motioned Thorn
to her.

"I do not bother to search you for weapons," he said dryly. "I did it
so short a time ago. And you had only a club...."

Thorn walked stiffly beside Sylva. She put out a shaking hand and
touched him. Kreynborg threw the switch back again.

"Der screen is on," he chuckled. "Console each other, children. I am
glad you came, Thorn Hardt. We watch der grand refiew of der Com-Pub
fleet. Then I turn a little infention of mine upon you. It is a
heat-ray of fery limited range. It will be my method of wooing der
fair Sylva. When she sees you in torment, she kisses me sweetly for
der prifilege of stopping der heat-ray. I count upon you, my friend,
to plead with her to grant me der most extrafagant of concessions,
when der heat-ray is searing der flesh from your bones. I feel that
she is soft-hearted enough to oblige you. Yes?"

He touched a button and the repaired television-screen lighted up.
All the dome of mountains and sky was visible in it. There were
dancing motes in sight, which were aircraft.

"I haff remofed all metal-work from that side of der room," added
Kreynborg comfortably, "so I can dare to turn my back. You cannot
short der induction-screen again. That was clefer. But you face a
scientist, Thorn Hardt. You haff lost."

A sudden surge of flying craft appeared on the television screen. The
grounded fleet of the United Nations was taking to the air again. In
the narrow, two-mile strip between the two domes of force it swirled
up and up.... Kreynborg frowned.

"Now, what is der idea of that?" he demanded. He moved closer to the
screen. The pocket-gun was left behind, five feet from his
finger-tips. "Thorn Hardt, you will explain it!"

"They hope," said Thorn grimly, "your fleet can make gaps in the dome
to shoot through. If so, they'll go out through those gaps and fight."

"Foolish!" said Kreynborg blandly. "Der only weapon we haff to use is
der normal metabolism of der human system. Hunger!"

*