Prying with one hand and a tool from his belt pouch, he struggled not
only against the stubborn metal but against time. That strange mental
communication had ceased. Though he was sure that he still received a
trace of it from time to time, just enough to reassure him that the
prisoner was still alive. And each time it touched him Raf redoubled
his efforts on the metal clasps of the grid. At last his determination
triumphed, and the grille swung out, to fall with an appalling clatter
to the floor.

The pilot thrust his feet through the opening and wriggled
desperately, expecting any moment to confront a reception committee
drawn by the noise. But when he reached the floor, the hallway was
still vacant. In fact, he was conscious of a hush in the whole
building, as if those who made their homes within its walls were
elsewhere. That silence acted on him as a spur.

Raf ran along the corridor, trying to subdue the clatter of his space
boots, coming to a downward ramp. There he paused, unable to decide
whether to go down--until he caught sight of a party of aliens below,
walking swiftly enough to suggest that they too were in a hurry.

This small group was apparently on its way to some gathering. And in
it for the first time the Terran saw the women of the aliens, or at
least the fully veiled, gliding creatures he guessed were the females
of the painted people. There were four of them in the group ahead,
escorted by two of the males, and the high fluting of their voices
resounded along the corridor as might the cheeping of birds. If the
males were colorful in their choice of body wrappings, the females
were gorgeous beyond belief, as cloudy stuff which had the changing
hues of Terran opals frothed about them to completely conceal their
figures.

The harsher twittering of the men had an impatient note, and the whole
party quickened pace until their glide was close to an undignified
trot. Raf, forced to keep well behind lest his boots betray him,
fumed.

They did not go into the open, but took another way which sloped down
once more. Luckily the journey was not a long one. Ahead was light
which suggested the outdoors.

Raf sucked in his breath as he came out a goodly distance behind the
aliens. Established in what was once a court surrounded by the towers
and buildings of the city was a miniature of that other arena where he
had seen the dead lizard things. The glittering, gayly dressed aliens
were taking their places