"The way--how do we get there?" Blaine's fingers closed lovingly over
the butts of the pistols and he thrust them in his pockets.

"Oh yes. The lift--the one that carried you to the palace--its shaft
ends deep down beneath the natural surface of Antrid in a tunnel where
a moving platform will carry you to your friend. May your God and the
gods of ancient Antrid be with you."

Once more they were in the cage of the lift, dropping with
breath-taking speed. Down into the bowels of the satellite they sped
and it seemed the shaft would never end.

* * * * *

Then they were in the tunnel Dantor had told them about, smooth walls
speeding past as the swiftly moving platform carried them on. The great
arched chamber opened before them at last and they saw that the workmen
were returning to their tasks. The huge breech of the rocket-tube had
cooled to a dimly visible red, the second charge having done its work.

Hands in his pockets and walking stiffly as if mechanized, the Earth
man presented himself before the guard at the entrance, Ulana pressed
close to his side. He feigned the hypnotic state.

"I-an-i-to," he repeated in jerky syllables, acting the part, "he--sent
us--with message--for Farley."

The guard grinned. Even here the story of the Earth man and the Rulan
maiden was known. The strange leniency of Ianito in permitting them to
remain together was the topic of the day. He waved them through with an
indulgent gesture. Ianito knew what he was about, and would have his
little joke--later.

Tom Farley was there, waiting with the Llott scientists until the
breech block should have cooled sufficiently to permit them to open it
and prepare the third charge. A flicker of recognition in his glazed
eyes told Blaine he was not altogether gone, but Tommy gave no other
outward sign. Perhaps with Ianito no longer alive, the mental control
would become ineffective.

They had not long to wait, for the breech was water-jacketed and cooled
rapidly. Blaine puttered around with unfamiliar test tubes and retorts,
watching for a chance to get a word with Tommy in private. He was
almost certain that his friend was recovering. Ulana sat there on a
greasy bench, regarding the scene with anxious eyes. She was a brick:
game as they made them.

Tommy was beside him then, weighing a heap of the dry soil for the next
charge. "Are you all right?" Blaine whispered.

But Tom Farley stared back w