due in order
that it might be used in exciting the next charge. A mechanical
precision marked his every motion.

"It is good," Ianito grunted, flicking a lever that cut off the view.
"We are progressing nicely, thanks to the generosity of the Earth
beings in providing this k-metal."

His sarcastic grin was infuriating. Dantor cast a warning look in the
Earth man's direction. It wouldn't do to lock horns with this
self-satisfied despot; at any rate, not now. Blaine's mien was
expressionless as he faced him.

* * * * *

The view in the crystal was another familiar one when Ianito made a
quick readjustment: the throne room in the palace of the Zara! The
Dictator snorted when he saw that Clyone was reclining lazily on her
golden couch, submitting graciously to the ministrations of her
handmaidens.

"Faithless creature!" he snarled. "Harlot! Parricide! But at last
Ianito will have his revenge."

The hate in his voice and in those terrible glass-hard eyes was
devastating in its intensity: implacable, relentless. Yet Blaine could
not down the exultant feeling that came to him when he saw that this
monster could suffer, too.

"What's the matter?" he sneered. "Did she throw you down?" He could
have bitten off his tongue as he spoke. Ulana gasped.

And if Ianito had been in a rage before he was a madman now. Despite
his contempt of the misshapen creature, Blaine quailed before the
murderous glare that answered his rash words. But the Dictator was
master of himself, at that; his lips tightened in a thin line and he
held his peace. He actually smiled after a moment, the devil, a smile,
though, of evil triumph. He turned once more to the crystal and
switched on the sound mechanism.

"Clyone," he called, in velvety voice; "it is Ianito."

She looked up, startled, her chalky face gone whiter still. Her jeweled
fingers fluttered to the smooth throat.

"I hear you," she replied shakily. "What do you wish of me."

"Nothing much--this time. I have visitors who request an audience with
you, oh Clyone. Can you see them at once?"

"Who--who are they?" Her eyes widened at his insinuating tone.

"An Earth man--Carson--and the Rulan maiden who is to become his mate."
Ianito chuckled evilly as he watched her expression.

"Carson?" she whispered, her wild eyes softening, "He--he lives?" Black
hatred replaced the wondering joy that had glowed in her face. She was
thinking of the statemen