d in the thick undergrowth. In the clearing the six empty
Thrayxite ships towered in the sleeping quiet, star-shine glinting
faintly from their polished hulls.

Wordlessly, they entered the dome, and it was as they had left it.

Kriijorl again adjusted the headset, and the orange glow pulsed and
waned as Mason watched.

And then at length, "If they are to know, they know now," Kriijorl
said. "And the Thrayxite host as well. What was there you wished to
add, Lieutenant?"

Mason spoke quickly. "Say that you have discovered that the
priceless--and you must say _priceless_--Book of the Saints is in the
Forest of Saarl on Thrayx. Say that we have discovered it to be less
well protected than is generally believed. Then give the location of
the subterranean vault as precisely as you can!"

"But my people are well aware--"

"I realize that, but our friend Cain doesn't!"

The Ihelian's face was still puzzled, but he projected the
thought-message Mason had dictated.

And then in seconds the Ihelian had hastily but thoroughly wrecked the
mentacom, and the two men left its silent dome for the empty ships
that beckoned so tantalizingly a scant quarter-mile distant.

They had run perhaps a dozen steps when the undergrowth behind them
ripped and tore, and Mason spun.

There was a muffled cry, and he had barely time to catch Judith's
bleeding body as she fell in exhaustion into his arms.

VI

The muscles in his arms and legs trembled with fatigue as he lifted
the semi-conscious girl up to Kriijorl, and then with what seemed an
impossible effort, hauled himself through the deserted ship's stern
airlock.

The Ihelian seemed to carry Judith as though she were a feather as he
climbed the narrow ladder above Mason, infinitely upward, the Earthman
thought ... an infinite distance to the ship's forehull, to its
control banks.

There was only the sound of his own hoarse breathing in his ears as he
climbed, rung after rung, and the hollow echo of Kriijorl's boots as
they mounted resolutely above him.

Then they had made it, and were strapping Judith into a hammock, were
taking their own shock-seats before the control-banks of the
Thrayxite shuttle-craft.

The Ihelian did not hesitate. His fingers deliberated for only a
moment above the firing studs in the blue-green glow of the banks, and
then they flicked home, and engines muttered, roared into terrifying
life.

Within moments, saying nothing, moving the swift, silent