Interplanentary ships disappear in space without trace, leaving no wreckage behind them . . . whilst a huge

invisible planetoid floats unobserved in an orbit around the sun.

Apparently motionless to her passengers and crew, the Interplanetary liner Hyperion bored serenely onward

through space at normal acceleration. In the railed-off sanctum in one corner of the control room a bell tinkled, a

smothered whirr was heard, and Captain Bradley frowned as he studied the brief message upon the tape of the

recorder a message flashed to his desk from the operator's panel. He beckoned, and the second officer, whose

watch it now was, read aloud:

"Reports of scout patrols still negative."

"Still negative." The officer scowled in thought. "They've already searched beyond the wildest possible location of

wreckage, too. Two unexplained disappearances inside a month-first the Dione, then the Rhea-and not a plate nor a

lifeboat recovered. Looks bad, sir. One might be an accident; two might possibly be a coincidence . . ." His voice

died away.

"But at three it would get to be a habit," the captain finished the thought. "And whatever happened, happened quick.

Neither of them had time to say a word-their location recorders simply went dead. But of course they didn't have

our detector screens nor our armament. According to the observatories we're in clear ether, but I wouldn't trust

them from Tellus to Luna. You have given the new orders, of course?"

"Yes, sir. Detectors full out, all three courses of defensive screen on the trips, projectors manned, suits on the

hooks. Every object detected to be investigated immediately-if vessels, they are to be warned to stay beyond

extreme range. Anything entering the fourth zone is to be rayed."

"Right-we are going through!"

"But no known type of vessel could have made away with them without detection," the second officer argued. "I

wonder if there isn't something in those wild rumors we've been hearing lately?"

"Bah! Of course not!" snorted the captain. "Pirates in ships faster than light-sub-ethereal rays-nullification of

gravity mass without inertia-ridiculous! Proved impossible, over and over again. No, sir, if pirates are operating in

space-and it looks very much like it-they won't get far against a good big battery full of kilowatt-hours behind three

courses of heavy screen, and good gunners behind multiplex projectors. They're good enough for anybody. Pirates"

Neptunians, angels, or devils-in ships or on broomsticks-if they tackle the Hyperion we'll burn them out of the

ether!"

Leaving the captain's desk, the watch officer resumed his tour of duty. The six great lookout plates into which the

alert observers peered were blank" their far-flung ultra sensitive detector screens encountering no obstacle-the

ether was empty for thousands upon thousands of kilometers. The signal lamps upon the pilot's panel were dark, its

warning bells were silent. A brilliant point of white light in the center of the pilot's closely ruled micrometer

grating, exactly upon the cross-hairs of his directors, showed that the immense vessel was precisely upon the

calculated course laid down by the automatic integrating course plotters. Everything was quiet and in order.

"All's well, sir," he reported briefly to Captain Bradley but all was not well.

Danger-more serious by far in that it was not external was even then, all unsuspected, gnawing at the great ship's

vitals. In a locked and shielded compartment, deep down in the interior of the liner, was the great air purifier. Now

a man leaned against the primary duct-the aorta through which flowed the stream of pure air supplying the entire

vessel. This man, grotesque in full panoply of space armor, leaned against the duct, and as he leaned a drill bit

deeper and deeper into the steel wall of the pipe. Soon it broke through, and the slight rush of air was stopped by

the insertion of a tightly fitting rubber tube. The tube terminated in a heavy rubber balloon, which surrounded a frail

glass bulb. The man stood tense, one hand holding before his silica-and-steel-helmeted head a large pocket

chronometer, the other lightly grasping the balloon. A sneering grin was upon his face as he waited the exact

second of action-the carefully predetermined instant when his right hand, closing, would shatter the fragile flask

and force its contents into the primary air stream of the Hyperion!

Far above, in the main saloon, the regular evening dance was in full swing. The ship's orchestra crashed into

silence, there was a patter of applause, and Clio Marsden, radiant belle of the voyage, led her partner out on to the

promenade and up to one of the observation plates.

"Oh, we can't see the Earth any more!" she exclaimed. "Which way do you turn this, Mr. Costigan?"

"Like this," and Conway Costigan, burly young First Officer of the liner, turned the dials. "There-this plate is

looking back, or down" at Tellus; this other one is looking ahead."

Earth was a brilliantly shining crescent far beneath the flying vessel. Above her, ruddy Mars and silvery Jupiter

blazed in splendor ineffable against a background of utterly indescribable blackness-a background thickly be-

sprinkled with dimensionless points of dazzling brilliance which were the stars.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" breathed the girl, awed. "Of course, I suppose that it's old stuff to you, but I'm a

ground-gripper, you know, and I could look at it forever, I think. That's why I want to come out here after every

dance. You know, I . . ."

Her voice broke off suddenly, with a queer, rasping catch, as she seized his arm in a frantic clutch and as quickly

went limp. He stared at her sharply, and understood instantly the message written in her eyes-eyes now enlarged,

staring, hard, brilliant, and full of soul-searching terror as she slumped down, helpless but for his support. In the act

of exhaling as he was, lungs almost entirely empty" yet he held his breath until he had seized the microphone from

his belt and had snapped the lever to "emergency." "Control room!" he gasped then, and every speaker throughout

the great cruiser of the void blared out the warning as he forced his already evacuated lungs to absolute emptiness.

"Vee-Two Gas! Get tight!"

Writhing and twisting in his fierce struggle to keep his lungs from gulping in a draft of that noxious atmosphere,

and with the unconscious form of the girl draped limply over his left arm, Costigan leaped towards the portal of the

nearest lifeboat. Orchestra instruments crashed to the floor and dancing couples fell and sprawled inertly while the

tortured First Officer swung the door of the lifeboat open and dashed across the tiny room to the air-valves.

Throwing them wide open, he put his mouth to the orifice and let his laboring lungs gasp their eager fill of the cold

blast roaring from the tanks. Then" air-hunger partially assuaged, he again held his breath, broke open the emer-

gency locker, donned one of the space-suits always kept there, and opened its valves wide in order to flush out of

his uniform any lingering trace of the lethal gas.

He then leaped back to his companion. Shutting off the air, he released a stream of pure oxygen, held her face in it,

and made shift to force some of it into her lungs by compressing and releasing her chest against his own body.

Soon she drew a spasmodic breath, choking and coughing, and he again changed the gaseous stream to one of pure

air" speaking urgently as she showed signs of returning .consciousness.

"Stand up!" he snapped. "Hang on to this brace and keep your face in this air-stream until I get a suit around you!

Got me!"

She nodded weakly, and, assured that she could bold herself at the valve, it was the work of only a minute to encase

her in one of the protective coverings. Then, as she sat upon a bench, recovering her strength. he flipped on the

lifeboat's visiphone projector and shot its invisible beam up into the control room, where he saw space-armored

figures curiously busy at the panels.

"Dirty work at the cross-roads!" he blazed to his captain, man to man-formality disregarded, as it so often was in

the Triplanetary service. "There's skulduggery afoot somewhere in our primary air! Maybe that's the way they got

those other two ships-pirates! Might have been a timed bomb-don't see how anybody could have stowed away down

there through the inspections, and nobody but Franklin can neutralize the shield of the air room-but I'm going to

look around, anyway. Then I'll join you fellows up there."

"What was it?" the shaken girl asked. "I think that I remember your saying "Vee-Two gas." That's forbidden! Anyway,

I owe you my life, Conway, and I'll never forget it-never. Thanks-but the others-how about all the rest of us?"

"It was Vee-Two, and it is forbidden," Costigan replied grimly, eyes fast upon the flashing plate, whose point of

projection was now deep in the bowels of the vessel. "The penalty for using it or having it is death on sight.

Gangsters and pirates use it, since they have nothing to lose, being on the death list already. As for your life, I

haven't saved it yet-you may wish I'd let it ride before we get done. The others are too far gone for oxygen-couldn't

have brought even you around in a few more seconds, quick as I got to you. But there's a sure antidote-we all carry

it in a lock-box in our armor-and we all know how to use it, because crooks all use Vee-Two and so we're always

expecting it. But since the air will be pure again in half an hour we'll be able to revive the others easily enough if

we can get by with whatever is going to happen next. There's the bird that did it, right in the air-room. It's the Chief

Engineer's suit, but that isn't Franklin that's in it. Some passenger-disguised-slugged the Chief-took his suit and

projectors-hole in duct-p-s-s-t! All washed out! Maybe that's all he was scheduled to do to us in this performance,

but he'll do something else in his life."

"Don't go down there!" protested the girl. "His armor is so much better than that emergency suit you are wearing,

and he's got Mr. Franklin's Lewiston, besides!"

"Don't be an idiot!" he snapped. "We can't have a live pirate aboard-we're going to be altogether too busy with

outsiders directly. Don't worry, I'm not going to give him a break. I'll take a Standish-I'll rub him out like a blot.

Stay right here until I come back after you," he commanded, and the heavy door of the lifeboat clanged shut behind

him as he leaped out into the promenade. Straight across the saloon he made his way, paying no attention to the

inert forms scattered here and there. Going up to a blank wall, he manipulated an almost invisible dial set flush with

its surface, swung a heavy door aside, and lifted out the Standish-a fearsome weapon. Squat" huge, and heavy, it

resembled somewhat an overgrown machine rifle, but one possessing a thick, short telescope" with several opaque

condensing lenses and parabolic reflectors. Laboring under the weight of the thing, he strode along corridors and

clambered heavily down short stairways. Finally he came to the purifier room, and grinned savagely as he saw the

greenish haze of light obscuring the door and walls-the shield was still in place; the pirate was still inside, stilt

flooding with the terrible VeeTwo the Hyperion's primary air.

He set his peculiar weapon down, unfolded its three massive legs, crouched down behind it, and threw in a switch.

Dull red beams of frightful intensity shot from the reflectors and sparks, almost of lightning proportions" leaped

snapping, the conflict went on for seconds, then, under the superior force of the Standish, the greenish radiance

gave way. Behind it the metal of the door ran the gamut of color-red, yellow, blinding white-then literally

exploded; molten, vaporized, burned away. Through the aperture thus made Costigan could plainly see the pirate in

the space-armor of the chief engineer-an armor which was proof against rifle fire and which could reflect and

neutralize for some little time even the terrific beam Costigan was employing. Nor was the pirate unarmed-a

vicious flare of incandescence leaped from his Lewiston, to spend its force in spitting, cracking pyrotechnics

against the ether-wall of the squat and monstrous Standish. But Costigan's infernal engine did not rely only upon

vibratory destruction. At almost the first flash of the pirate's weapon the officer touched a trigger, there was a

double report" ear-shattering in that narrowly confined space, and the pirate's body literally flew into mist as a

half-kilogram shell tore through his armor and exploded. Costigan shut off his beam, and with not the slightest

softening of one hard lineament stared around the air-room; making sure that no serious damage had been done to

the vital machinery of the air-purifier-the very lungs of the great spaceship. Dismounting the Standish, he lugged it

back up to the main saloon, replaced it in its safe" and again set the combination lock. Thence to the lifeboat, where

Clio cried out in relief as she saw that he was unhurt.

"Oh, Conway, I've been so afraid something would happen to you!" she exclaimed, as be led her rapidly upward

towards the control room. "Of course you . . :' she paused.

"Sure," he replied, laconically. "Nothing to it. How do you feel-about back to normal?"

"All right, I think, except for being scared to death and just about out of control. I don't suppose that I'll be good for

anything, but whatever I can do, count me in on."

"Fine-you may be needed, at that. Everybody's out" apparently, except those like me, who had a warning and could

hold their breath until they got to their suits."

"But how did you know what it was? You can't see it" nor smell it, nor anything."

"You inhaled a second before I did, and I saw your eyes. I've been in it before-and when you see a man get a jolt of

that stuff just once, you never forget it. The engineers down below got it first, of course-it must have wiped them

out. Then we got it in the saloon. Your passing out warned me, and luckily I had enough breath left to give the word.

Quite a few of the fellows up above should have had time to get away-we'll see 'em all in the control room."

"I suppose that was why you revived me-in payment for so kindly warning you of the gas attack?" The girl laughed;

shaky, but game.

"Something like that, probably," he answered" lightly. "Here we are-now we'll soon find out what's going to happen

next."

In the control room they saw at least a dozen armored figures; not now rushing about, but seated at their instru-

ments, tense and ready. Fortunate it was that Costigan veteran of space as he was, though young in years-had been

down in the saloon; fortunate that he had been familiar with that horrible outlawed gas; fortunate that he had had

presence of mind enough and sheer physical stamina enough to send his warning without allowing one paralyzing

trace to enter his own lungs. Captain Bradley, the men on watch, and several other officers in their quarters or in

the wardrooms-space-hardened veterans all -had obeyed instantly and without question the amplifiers' gasped

command to "get tight." Exhaling or inhaling, their air passages had snapped shut as that dread "Vee-Two" was heard,

and they had literally jumped into their armored suits of space-flushing them out with volume after volume of

unquestionable air, holding their breath to the last possible second, until their straining lungs could endure no

more.

Costigan waved the girl to a vacant bench, cautiously changing into his own armor from the emergency suit he had

been wearing, and approached the captain.

"Anything in sight, sir?" he asked, saluting. "They should have started something before this."

"They've started, but we can't locate them. We tried to send out a general sector alarm, but had hardly started when

they blanketed our wave. Look at that!"

Following the captain's eyes, Costigan stared at the high powered set of the ship's operator. Upon the plate" instead

of a moving, living, three-dimensional picture, there was a flashing glare of blinding white light; from the speaker,

instead of intelligible speech, was issuing a roaring" crackling stream of noise.

"It's impossible!" Bradley burst out, violently. "There's not a gram of metal inside the fourth zone-within a hundred

thousand kilometers-and yet they must be close to send such a wave as that. But the Second thinks not what do you

think, Costigan?" The bluff commander, reactionary and of the old school as was his breed, was furious-baffled,

raging inwardly to come to grips with the invisible and indetectable foe. Face to face with the inexplicable,

however, he listened to the younger men with unusual tolerance.

"It's not only possible; it's quite evident that they've got something we haven't." Costigan's voice was bitter. "But

why shouldn't they have? Service ships never get anything until it's been experimented with for years, but pirates

and such always get the new stuff as soon as it's discovered. The only good thing I can see is that we got part of a

message away, and the scouts can trace that interference out there. But the pirates know that" too-it won't be long

now," he concluded, grimly.

He spoke truly. Before another word was said the outer screen flared white under a beam of terrific power, and

simultaneously there appeared upon one of the lookout plates a vivid picture of the pirate vessel-a huge, black

torpedo of steel" now emitting flaring offensive beams of force.

Instantly the powerful weapons of the Hyperion were brought to bear, and in the blast of full-driven beams the

stranger's screens flared incandescent. Heavy guns, under the recoil of whose fierce salvos the frame of the giant

globe trembled and shuddered, shot out their tons of high explosive shell. But the pirate commander had known

accurately the strength of the liner, and knew that her armament was impotent against the forces at his command.

His screens were invulnerable, the giant shells were exploded harmlessly in mid-space, miles from their objective.

And suddenly a frightful pencil of flame stabbed brilliantly from the black bulk of the enemy. Through the empty

ether it tore, through the mighty defensive screens, through the tough metal of the outer and inner walls. Every

ether defense of the Hyperion vanished, and her acceleration dropped to a quarter of its normal value.

"Right through the battery room!" Bradley groaned. "We're on the emergency drive now. Our rays are done for, and

we can't seem to put a shell anywhere near her with our guns!"

But ineffective as the guns, were, they were silenced forever as a frightful beam of destruction stabbed relentlessly

through the control room, whiffing out of existence the pilot, gunnery, and lookout panels and the men before

them. The air rushed into space, and the suits of the three survivors bulged out into drum-head tightness as the

pressure in the room decreased.

Costigan pushed the captain lightly towards a wall, then seized the girl and leaped in the same direction.

"Let's get out of here" quick!" he cried, the miniature radio instruments of the helmets automatically taking up the

duty of transmitting speech as the sound discs refused to function. "They can't see us-our ether wall is still up and

their spy-rays can't get through it from the outside" you know. They're working from blue-prints, and they'll

probably take your desk next," and even as they bounded towards the door, now become the outer seal of an airlock"

the pirates' beam tore through the space which they had just quitted.

Through the air lock, down through several levels of passengers' quarters they hurried, and into a lifeboat, whose

one doorway commanded the full length of the third lounge -an ideal spot, either for defense or for escape outward

by means of the miniature cruiser. As they entered their retreat they felt their weight begin to increase. More and

more force was applied to the helpless liner, until it was moving at normal acceleration.

"What do you make of that" Costigan?" asked the captain. "Tractor beams?"

"Apparently. They've got something, all right. They're taking us somewhere, fast. I'll go get a couple of Standishes,

and another suit of armor-we'd better dig in," and soon the small room became a veritable fortress, housing as it did

those two formidable engines of destruction. Then the first officer made another and longer trip, returning with a

complete suit of Triplanetary space armor" exactly like those worn by the two men, but considerably smaller.

"Just as an added factor of safety, you'd better put this on, Clio-those emergency suits aren't good for much in a

battle. I don't suppose you ever fired a Standish, did you?"

"No, but I can soon learn how to do it"" she replied pluckily.

"Two is all that can work here at once, but you should know how to take hold in case one of us goes out. And while

you're changing suits you'd better put on some stuff I've got here-Service Special phones and detectors. Stick this

little disc on to your chest with this bit of tape; low down, out of sight. Just under your wishbone is the best place.

Take off your wristwatch and wear this one continuously-never take it off for a second. Put on these pearls, and

wear them all the time, too. Take this capsule and hide it against your skin, some place where it can't be found

except by the most rigid search. Swallow it in an emergency-it goes down easily and works just as well inside as

outside. It is the most important thing of all you can get along with it alone if you lose everything else, but without

that capsule the whole system's shot to pieces. With that outfit, if we should get separated, you can talk to us-we're

both wearing 'em, although in somewhat different forms. You don't need to talk loud-just a mutter will be enough.

They're handy little outfits-almost impossible to find, and capable of a lot of things."

"Thanks, Conway-I'll remember that, too," Clio replied, as she turned towards the tiny locker to follow his

instructions. "But won't the scouts and patrols be catching us pretty quick? The operator sent a warning."

"Afraid the ether's empty, as far as we're concerned." Captain Bradley had stood by in silent astonishment during

this conversation. His eyes had bulged slightly at Costigan's "we're both wearing 'em," but he had held his peace and

as the girl disappeared a look of dawning comprehension came over his face.

"Oh, I see, sir," he said, respectfully-far more respectfully than he had ever before addressed a mere first officer.

"Meaning that we both will be wearing them shortly, I assume. `Service Specials'-but you didn't specify exactly

what Service" did you?"

"Now that you mention it, I don't believe that I did," Costigan groaned.

"That explains several things about you-particularly your recognition of Vee-Two and your uncanny control and

speed of reaction. But aren't you . . ."

"No," Costigan interrupted. "This situation is apt to get altogether too serious to overlook any bets. If we get away"

I'll take them away from her and she'll never know that they aren't routine equipment. As for you I know that you

can and do keep your mouth shut. That's why I'm hanging this junk on you-I had a lot of stuff in my kit, but I flashed

it all with the Standish except what I brought in here for us three. Whether you think so or not, we're in a real

jam-our chance of getting away is mighty close to zero . . ."

He broke off as the girl came back, now to all appearances a small Triplanetary officer, and the three settled down

to a long and eventless wait. Hour after hour they flew through the ether, but finally there was a lurching swing and

an abrupt increase in their acceleration. After a short consultation Captain Bradley turned on the visiray set and,

with the beam at its minimum power, peered cautiously downward, in the direction opposite to that in which he

knew the pirate vessel must be. All three stared into the plate, seeing only an infinity of emptiness, marked only by

the infinitely remote and coldly brilliant stars. While they stared into space a vast area of the heavens was blotted

out and they saw, faintly illuminated by a peculiar blue luminescence, a vast ball-a sphere so large and so close that

they seemed to be dropping downward towards it as though it were a world! They came to a stop, paused,

weightless-a vast door slid smoothly aside-they were drawn upward through an airlock and floated quietly in the air

above a small, but brightly-lighted and orderly city of metallic buildings! Gently the Hyperion was lowered, to

come to rest in the embracing arms of a regulation landing cradle.

"Well, wherever it is, we're here"" remarked Captain Bradley, grimly, and:

"And now the fireworks start," assented Costigan, with a questioning glance at the girl.

"Don't mind me," she answered his unspoken question. "I don't believe in surrendering, either."

"Right," and both men squatted down behind the ether walls of their terrific weapons; the girl prone behind them.

They had not long to wait. A group of human beings men and to all appearances Americans-appeared unarmed in the

little lounge. As soon as they were well inside the room, Bradley and Costigan released upon them without

compunction the full power of their frightful projectors. From the reflectors, through the doorway, there tore a

concentrated double beam of pure destruction-but that beam did not reach its goal. Yards from the men it met a

screen of impenetrable density. Instantly the gunners pressed their triggers and a stream of high-explosive shells

issued from the roaring weapons. But shells, also, were futile. They struck the shield and vanished-vanished without

exploding and without leaving a trace to show that they had ever existed.

Costigan sprang to his feet, but before he could launch his intended attack a vast tunnel appeared beside him

something had gone through the entire width of the liner, cutting effortlessly a smooth cylinder of emptiness. Air

rushed in to fill the vacuum, and the three visitors felt themselves seized by invisible forces and drawn into the

tunnel. Through it they floated, up to and over buildings, finally slanting downward towards the door of a great high

towered structure. Doors opened before them and closed behind them, until at last they stood upright in a room

which was evidently the office of a busy executive. They faced a desk which, in addition to the usual equipment of

the business man, carried also a bewilderingly complete switchboard and instrument panel.

Seated impassively at the desk there was a grey man. Not only was he dressed entirely in grey, but his heavy hair

was grey, his eyes were grey, and even his tanned skin seemed to give the impression of greyness in disguise. His

overwhelming personality radiated an aura of greyness not the gentle grey of the dove, but the resistless, driving

grey of the superdreadnought; the hard, inflexible, brittle grey of the fracture of high-carbon steel.

"Captain Bradley, First Officer Costigan, Miss Marsden," the man spoke quietly, but crisply. "I had not intended you

two men to live so long. That is a detail, however, which we will pass by for the moment. You may remove your

suits."

Neither officer moved, but both stared back at the speaker, unflinchingly.

"I am not accustomed to repeating instructions," the man at the desk continued; voice still low and level, but

instinct with deadly menace. "You may choose between removing those suits and dying in them, here and now."

Costigan moved over to Clio and slowly took off her armor. Then, after a flashing exchange of glances and a

muttered word, the two officers threw off their suits simultaneously and fired at the same instant; Bradley with his

Lewiston, Costigan with a heavy automatic pistol whose bullets were explosive shells of tremendous power. But

the man in grey, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of force, only smiled at the fusillade, tolerantly and

maddeningly. Costigan leaped freely, only to be hurled backward as he struck that unyielding, invisible wall. A

vicious beam snapped him back into place, the weapons were snatched away, and all three captives were held to

their former positions.

"I permitted that, as a demonstration of futility," the grey man said, his hard voice becoming harder, "but I will per-

mit no more foolishness. Now I will introduce myself. I am known as Roger. You probably have heard nothing of

me: very few Tellurians have, or ever will. Whether or not you two live depends solely upon yourselves. Being

something of a student of men, I fear that you will both die shortly. Able and resourceful as you have just shown

yourselves to be, you could be valuable to me, but you probably will not-in which case you shall, of course" cease

to exist. That, however, in its proper time--you shall be of some slight service to me in the process of being

eliminated. In your case, Miss Marsden, I find myself undecided between two courses of action; each highly desir-

able, but unfortunately mutually exclusive. Your father will be glad to ransom you at an exceedingly high figure"

but in spite of that fact I may decide to use you in a research upon sex."

"Yes?" Clio rose magnificently to the occasion. Fear forgotten, her courageous spirit flashed from her clear young

eyes and emanated from her taut young body, erect in defiance. "You may think that you can do anything with me

that you please, but you can't!"

"Peculiar-highly perplexing-why should that one stimulus, in the case of young females" produce such an entirely

disproportionate reaction?" Roger's eyes bored into Clio's; the girl shivered and looked away. "But sex itself"

primal and basic, the most widespread concomitant of life in this continuum" is completely illogical and

paradoxical. Most baffling-decidedly, this research on sex must go on."

Roger pressed a button and a tall, comely woman appeared-a woman of indefinite age and of uncertain nationality.

"Show Miss Marsden to her apartment," he directed, and as the two women went out a man came in.

"The cargo is unloaded, sir," the newcomer reported. "The two men and the five women indicated have been taken to

the hospital."

"Very well, dispose of the others in the usual fashion" The minion went out, and Roger continued, emotionlessly:

"Collectively, the other passengers may be worth a million or so, but it would not be worthwhile to waste time

upon them."

"What are you, anyway?" blazed Costigan, helpless but enraged beyond caution. "I have heard of mad scientists who

tried to destroy the Earth, and of equally mad geniuses who thought themselves Napoleons capable of conquering

even the Solar System. Whichever you are" you should know that you can't get away with it."

"I am neither. I am, however, a scientist, and I direct many other scientists. I am not mad. You have undoubtedly

noticed several peculiar features of this place?"

"Yes, particularly the artificial gravity and those screens. An ordinary ether-wall is opaque in one direction, and

doesn't bar matter-yours are transparent both ways and something more than impenetrable to matter. How do you

do it?"

"You could not understand them if I explained them to you, and they are merely two of our smaller developments. I

do not intend to destroy your planet Earth; I have no desire to rule over masses of futile and brainless men. I have,

however, certain ends of my own in view. To accomplish my plans I require hundreds of millions in gold and other

hundreds of millions in uranium, thorium, and radium; all of which I shall take from the planets of this Solar

System before I leave it. I shall take them in spite of the puerile efforts of the fleets of your Triplanetary League.

"This structure was designed by me and built under my direction. It is protected from meteorites by forces of my

devising. It is indetectable and invisible-ether waves are bent around it without loss or distortion. I am discussing

these points at such length so that you may realize exactly your position. As I have intimated, you can be of

assistance to me if you will."

"Now just what could you offer any man to make him join your outfit?" demanded Costigan, venomously. "Many

things," Roger's cold tone betrayed no emotion, no recognition of Costigan's open and bitter contempt. "I have

under me many men, bound to me by many ties. Needs, wants, longings, and desires differ from man to man, and I

can satisfy practically any of them. Many men take delight in the society of young and beautiful women, but there

are other urges which I have found quite efficient. Greed, thirst for fame, longing for power" and so on" including

many qualities usually regarded as `noble.' And what I promise" I deliver. I demand only loyalty to me" and that only

in certain things and for a relatively short period. In all else, my men do as they please. In conclusion" I can use

you two conveniently, but I do not need you. Therefore you may choose now between my service and the

alternative."

"Exactly what is the alternative?"

"We will not go into that. Suffice it to say that it has to do with a minor research, which is not progressing satis-

factorily. It will result in your extinction, and perhaps I should mention that that extinction will not be particularly

pleasant."

"I say NO, you . . :' Bradley roared. He intended to give an unexpurgated classification, but was rudely interrupted.

"Hold on a minute!" snapped Costigan. "How about Miss Marsden?"

"She has nothing to do with this discussion," returned Roger" icily. "I do not bargain-in fact" I believe that I shall

keep her for a time. She has it in mind to destroy herself if I do not allow her to be ransomed" but she will find that

door closed to her until I permit it to open."

"In that case" I string along with the Chief-take what be started to say about you and run it clear across the board for

me!" barked Costigan.

"Very well. That decision was to be expected from men of your type." The grey man touched two buttons and two of

his creatures entered the room. "Put these men into two separate cells on the second level," he ordered. "Search

them; all their weapons may not have been in their armor. Seal the doors and mount special guards" tuned to me

here."

Imprisoned they were, and carefully searched; but they bore no arms, and nothing bad been said concerning com-

municators. Even if such instruments could be concealed" Roger would detect their use instantly. At least, so ran

his thought. But Roger's men had no inkling of the possibility of Costigan's "Service Special" phones" detectors,

and spy ray-instruments of minute size and of infinitesimal power, but yet instruments which, working as they were

below the level of the ether, were effective at great distances and caused no vibrations in the ether by which their

use could be detected. And what could be more innocent than the regulation personal equipment of every officer of

space? The heavy goggles, the wrist-watch and its supplementary pocket chronometer, the flash-lamp, the

automatic lighter, the sender, the money-belt?

 All these items of equipment were examined with due care; but the cleverest minds of the Triplanetary Service had

designed those communicators to pass any ordinary search, however careful" and when Costigan and Bradley were

finally locked into the designated cells they still possessed their ultra-instruments.

In Roger's Planetoid

In the hall Clio glanced around her wildly, seeking even the narrowest avenue of escape. Before she could act,

however, her body was clamped as though in a vise, and she struggled, motionless.

"It is useless to attempt to escape, or to do anything except what Roger wishes," the guide informed her somberly,

snapping off the instrument in her hand and thus restoring to the thoroughly cowed girl her freedom of motion.

"His lightest wish is law," she continued as they walked down a long corridor. "The sooner you realize that you must

do exactly as he pleases, in all things, the easier your life will be."

"But I wouldn't want to keep on living!" Clio declared" with a flash of spirit. "And I can always die, you know." "You

will find that you cannot," the passionless creature returned, monotonously. "If you do not yield, you will long and

pray for death, but you will not die unless Roger wills it. Look at me: I cannot die. Here is your apartment. You will

stay here until Roger gives further orders concerning you."

The living automaton opened a door and stood silent and impassive while Clio, staring at her in horror" shrank past

her and into the sumptuously furnished suite. The door closed soundlessly and utter silence descended as a pall.

Not an ordinary silence, but the indescribable perfection of the absolute silence, complete absence of all sound. In

that silence Clio stood motionless. Tense and rigid, hopeless, despairing, she stood there in that magnificent room,

fighting an almost overwhelming impulse to scream. Suddenly she heard the cold voice of Roger" speaking from

the empty air.

"You are over-wrought, Miss Marsden. You can be of no use to yourself or to me in that condition. I command you

to rest; and, to insure that rest, you may pull that cord" which will establish about this room an ether wall: a wall to

cut off even this my voice . . ."

The voice ceased as she pulled the cord savagely and threw herself upon a divan in a torrent of gasping" strangling,

but rebellious sobs. Then again came a voice, but not to her ears. Deep within her, pervading every bone and

muscle, it made itself felt rather than heard.

"Clio?" it asked. "Don't talk yet . . ."

"Conway!" she gasped in relief, every fiber of her being thrilled into new hope at the deep" well-remembered voice

of Conway Costigan.

"Keep still!" he snapped. "Don't act so happy! He may have a spy-ray on you. He can't hear me, but he may be able to

hear you. When he was talking to you you must have noticed a sort of rough, sandpapery feeling under that

necklace I gave you? Since he's got an ether-wall around you the beads are dead now. If you feel anything like that

under the wrist-watch, breathe deeply, twice. If you don't feel anything there, it's safe for you to talk" as loud as you

please."

"I don't feel anything, Conway!" she rejoiced. Tears forgotten, she was her old, buoyant self again. "So that wall is

real, after all? I only about half believed it."

"Don't trust it too much, because he can cut it off from the outside any time he wants to. Remember what I told

you: that necklace will warn you of any spy-ray in the ether, and the watch will detect anything below the level of

the ether. It's dead now, of course, since our three phones are direct-connected; I'm in touch with Bradley, too.

Don't be too scared; we've got a lot better chance than I thought we had."

"What? You don't mean it!"

"Absolutely. I'm beginning to think that maybe we've got something he doesn't know exists-our ultra-wave. Of

course I wasn't surprised when his searchers failed to find our instruments, but it never occurred to me that I might

have a clear field to use them in! I can't quite believe it yet, but I haven't been able to find any indication that he can

even detect the bands we are using. I'm going to look around over there with my spy-ray . . . I'm looking at you

now-feel it?"

"Yes, the watch feels that way, now."

"Fine! Not a sign of interference over here, either. I can't find a trace of ultra-wave-anything below ether level, you

know-anywhere in the whole place. He's got so much stuff that we've never heard of that I supposed of course he'd

have ultra-wave, too; but if he hasn't, that gives us the edge. Well, Bradley and I've got a lot of work to do . . . Wait a

minute, I just had a thought. I'll be back in about a second."

There was a brief pause, then the soundless" but clear voice went on:

"Good bunting! That woman that gave you the blue willies isn't alive-she's full of the prettiest machinery and

circuits you ever saw!"

"Oh, Conway!" and the girl's voice broke in an engulfing wave of thanksgiving and relief. "It was so unutterably

horrible, thinking of what must have happened to her and to others like her!"

"He's running a colossal bluff, I think. He's good, all right, but he lacks quite a lot of being omnipotent. But don't

get too cocky, either. Plenty has happened to women here, and men too-and plenty may happen to us unless we put

out a few jets. Keep a stiff upper lip, and if you want us, yell. 'Bye!"

The silent voice ceased, the watch upon Clio's wrist again became an unobtrusive timepiece, and Costigan, in his

solitary cell far below her tower room, turned his peculiarly goggled eyes towards other scenes. His hands,

apparently idle in his pockets, manipulated tiny controls; his keen, highly-trained eyes studied every concealed

detail of mechanism of the great globe. Finally, he took off the goggles and spoke in a low voice to Bradley,

confined in another windowless room across the hall.

"I think I've got enough dope, Captain. I've found out where he put our armor and guns, and I've located all the main

leads, controls, and generators. There are no ether-walls around us here, but every door is shielded, and there are

guards outside our doors-one to each of us. They're robots, not men. That makes it harder, since they're

undoubtedly connected direct to Roger's desk and will give an alarm at the first hint of abnormal performance. We

can't do a thing until he leaves his desk. See that black panel, a little below the cord-switch to the right of your

door? That's the conduit cover. When I give you the word" tear that off and you'll see one red wire in the cable. It

feeds the shield-generator of your door. Break that wire and join me out in the hall. Sorry I had only one of these

ultra-wave spies, but once we're together it won't be so bad. Here's what I thought we could do," and he went over in

detail the only course of action which his survey had shown to be possible.

"There, he's left his desk!" Costigan exclaimed after the conversation had continued for almost an hour. "Now as

soon as we find out where he's going, we'll start something . . . he's going to see Clio, the swine! This changes

things, Bradley!" His hard voice was a curse.

"Somewhat!" blazed the captain. "I know how you two have been getting on all during the cruise. I'm with you, but

what can we do?"

"We'll do something," Costigan declared grimly. "If he makes a pass at her I'll get him if I have to blow this whole

sphere out of space, with us in it!"

"Don't do that, Conway," Clio's low voice, trembling but determined, was felt by both men. "If there's a chance for

you to get away and do anything about fighting him, don't mind me. Maybe he only wants to talk about the ransom,

anyway."

"He wouldn't talk ransom to you-he's going to talk something else entirely," Costigan gritted, then his voice

changed suddenly. "But say, maybe it's just as well this way. They didn't find our specials when they searched us,

you know, and we're going to do plenty of damage right soon now. Roger probably isn't a fast worker-more the

cat-and-mouse type" I'd say-and after we get started he'll have something on his mind besides you. Think you can

stall him off and keep him interested for about fifteen minutes?"

"I'm sure I can-I'll do anything to help us, or you, get away from this horrible . . ." Her voice ceased as Roger broke

the ether-wall of her apartment and walked towards the divan, upon which she crouched in wide-eyed, helpless,

trembling terror.

"Get ready, Bradley!" Costigan directed tersely. "He left Clio's ether-wall off, so that any abnormal signals would

be relayed to him from his desk-he knows that there's no chance of anyone disturbing him in that room. But I'm

holding a beam on that switch, so that the wall is on, full strength. No matter what we do now, he can't get a roam-

ing. I'll have to hold the beam exactly in place, though, so you'll have to do the dirty work. Tear out that red wire and

kill those two guards. You know how to kill a robot" don't you?"

"Yes-break his eye-lenses and his ear-drums and he'll stop whatever he's doing and send out distress calls . . . Got

'em both. Now what?"

"Open my door-the shield switch is to the right." Costigan's door flew open and the Triplanetary captain leaped into

the room.

"Now for our armor!" he cried.

"Not yet!" snapped Costigan. He was standing rigid, goggled eyes staring immovably at a spot on the ceiling. "I can't

move a millimeter until you've closed Clio's ether wall switch. If I take this ray off it for a second we're sunk. Five

floors up, straight ahead down a corridor fourth door on right. When you're at the switch you'll feel my ray on your

watch. Snap it up!"

"Right," and the captain leaped away at a pace to be equaled by few men of half his years.

Soon he was hack, and after Costigan had tested the ether-wall of the "bridal suite" to make sure that no warning

signal from his desk or his servants could reach Roger within it, the two officers hurried away towards the room in

which their space-armor was.

"Too bad they don't wear uniforms," panted Bradley"

short of breath from the many flights of stairs. "Might have helped some as disguise."

"I doubt it-with so many robots around, they've probably got signals that we couldn't understand anyway. If we meet

anybody it'll mean a battle. Hold it!" Peering through walls with his spy-ray, Costigan had seen two men

approaching, blocking an intersecting corridor into which they must turn. "Two of 'em, a man and a robot-the

robot's on your side. We'll wait here, right at the corner when they round it take 'em!' and Costigan put away his

goggles in readiness for strife.

All unsuspecting, the two pirates came into view, and as they appeared the two officers struck. Costigan, on the in-

side, drove a short, hard right blow into the human pirate's abdomen. The fiercely-driven fist sank to the wrist into

the soft tissues and the stricken man collapsed. But even as the blow landed Costigan had seen that there was a third

enemy, following close behind the two he had been watching, a pirate who was even then training a ray projector

upon him. Reacting automatically, Costigan swung his unconscious opponent around in front of him" so that it was

into an enemy's body that the vicious ray tore, and not into his own. Crouching down into the smallest possible

compass, he straightened out with the lashing force of a mighty steel spring, hurling the corpse straight at the

flaming mouth of the projector. The weapon crashed to the floor and dead pirate and living went down in a heap.

Upon that heap Costigan hurled himself, feeling for the pirate's throat. But the fellow had wriggled clear, and

countered with a gouging thrust that would have torn out the eyes of a slower man, following it up instantly with a

savage kick for the groin. No automaton this, geared and set to perform certain fixed duties with mechanical

precision, but a lithe, strong man in hard training, fighting with every foul trick known to his murderous ilk.

But Costigan was no tyro in the art of dirty fighting. Few indeed were the maiming tricks of foul combat unknown

to even the rank and file of the highly efficient under-cover branch of the Triplanetary Service; and Costigan, a

Sector Chief, knew them all. Not for pleasure" sportsmanship, nor million-dollar purses did those secret agents

use Nature's weapons. They came to grips only when it could not possibly be avoided" but when they were forced to

fight in that fashion they went in with but one grim purpose-to kill, and to kill in the shortest possible space of

time. Thus it was that Costigan's opening soon came. The pirate launched a vicious coup de sabot, which Costigan

avoided by a lightning shift. It was a slight shift" barely enough to make the kicker miss, and two powerful hands

closed upon that flying foot in midair like the sprung jaws of a bear-trap. Closed and twisted viciously, in the same

fleeting instant. There was a shriek" smothered as a heavy boot crashed to its carefully predetermined mark-the

pirate was out, definitely and permanently.

The struggle had lasted scarcely ten seconds, coming to its close just as Bradley finished blinding and deafening

the robot. Costigan picked up the projector, again donned his spy-ray goggles, and the two hurried on.

"Nice work, Chief-it must be a gift to rough-house the way you do," Bradley exclaimed. "That's why you took the

live one?"

"Practice helps some, too-I've been in brawls before" and I'm a lot younger and maybe a bit faster than you are,"

Costigan explained briefly, penetrant gaze rigidly to the fore as they ran along one corridor after another.

Several more guards, both living and mechanical" were encountered on the way, but they were not permitted to

offer any opposition. Costigan saw them first. In the furious beam of the projector of the dead pirate they were

driven into nothingness, and the two officers sped on to the room which Costigan had located from afar. The three

suits of Triplanetary space armor had been locked up in a cabinet; a cabinet whose doors Costigan literally blew off

with a blast of force rather than consume time in tracing the power leads.

"I feel like something now!" Costigan, once more encased in his own armor, heaved a great sigh of relief.

"Rough-and-tumble's all right with one or two, but that generator room is full of grief, and we won't have any too

much stuff as it is. We've got to take Clio's suit along we'll carry it down to the door of the power room" drop it

there, and pick it up on the way back."

Contemptuous now of possible guards, the armored pair strode towards the power plant-the very heart of the im-

mense fortress of space. Guards were encountered, and captains-officers who signaled frantically to their chief,

since he alone could unleash the frightful forces at his command, and who profanely wondered at his unwonted

silence-but the enemy beams were impotent against the ether walls of that armor; and the pirates, without armor in

the security of their own planetoid as they were, vanished utterly in the ravening beams of the twin Lewistons. As

they paused before the door of the power room, both men felt Clio's voice raised in her first and last appeal, an

appeal wrung from her against her will by the extremity of her position.

"Conway! Hurry! His eyes-they're tearing me apart! Hurry, dear!" In the horror-filled tones both men read

clearly-however inaccurately-the girl's dire extremity. Each saw plainly a happy, carefree young Earth-girl, upon

her first trip into space, locked inside an ether-wall with an over-brained, under-conscienced human machine -a

superintelligent, but lecherous and unmoral mechanism of flesh and blood, acknowledging no authority, ruled by

nothing save his own scientific drivings and the almost equally powerful urges of his desires and passions! She

must have fought with every resource at her command. She must have wept and pleaded, stormed and raged" feigned

submission and played for time-and her torment had not touched in the slightest degree the merciless and gloating

brain of the being who called himself Roger. Now his tantalizing, ruthless cat-play would be done, the horrible

grey-brown face would be close to hers-she wailed her final despairing message to Costigan and attacked that

hideous face with the fury of a tigress.

Costigan bit off a bitter imprecation. "Hold him just a second longer, sweetheart!" he cried, and the power room

door vanished.

Through the great room the two Lewistons swept at full aperture and at maximum power, two rapidly-opening fans

of death and destruction. Here and there a guard" more rapid than his fellows, trained a futile projector-a projector

whose magazine exploded at the touch of that frightful field of force, liberating instantaneously its thousands upon

thousands of kilowatt-hours of stored-up energy.

Through the delicately adjusted, complex mechanisms the destroying beams tore. At their touch armatures burned

out, high-tension leads volatilized in crashing, high-voltage arcs" masses of metal smoked and burned in the path of

vast forces now seeking the easiest path to neutralization, delicate instruments blew up" copper ran in streams. As

the last machine subsided into a semi-molten mass of metal the two wreckers" each grasping a brace, felt

themselves become weightless and knew that they had accomplished the first part of their program.

Costigan leaped for the outer door. His the task to go to Clio's aid-Bradley would follow more slowly, bringing the

girl's armor and taking care of any possible pursuit. As he sailed through the air he spoke.

"Coming, Clio! All right" girl?" Questioningly, half fearfully.

"All right" Conway." Her voice was almost unrecognizable, broken in retching agony. "When everything went crazy

he ... found out that the ether-wall was up and . . . forgot all about me. He shut it off . . . and seemed to go crazy too

. . . he is floundering around like a wild man now ... I'm trying to keep ... him from ... going downstairs."

"Good girl-keep him busy one minute more-he's getting all the warnings at once and wants to get back to his board.

But what's the matter with you? Did he. . . hurt you, after all?"

"Oh, no" not that-he didn't do anything but look at me-but that was bad enough-but I'm sick-horribly sick. I'm falling

. . .I'm so dizzy that I can scarcely see ... my head is breaking up into little pieces . . . I just know I'm going to die,

Conway! Oh . . . oh!"

"Oh, is that all!" In his sheer relief that they had been in time" Costigan did not think of sympathizing with Clio's

very real present distress of mind and body. "I forgot that you're a ground-gripper-that's just a little touch of

space-sickness. It'll wear off directly . . . All right, I'm coming! Let go of him and get as far away from him as you

cant"

He was now in the street. Perhaps two hundred feet distant and a hundred feet above him was the tower room in

which were Clio and Roger. He sprang directly towards its large window, and as he floated "upward" he corrected

his course and accelerated his pace by firing backwards at various angles with his heavy service pistol, uncaring that

at the point of impact of each of those shells a small blast of destruction erupted. He missed the window a trifle,

but that did not matter-his flaming Lewiston opened a way for him, partly through the window, partly through the

wall. As he soared through the opening he trained projector and pistol upon Roger, now almost to the door"

noticing as he did so that Clio was clinging convulsively to a lamp-bracket upon the wall. Door and wall vanished in

the Lewiston's terrific beam, but the pirate stood unharmed. Neither ravening ray nor explosive shell could harm

him-he had snapped on the protective shield whose generator was always upon his person.

When Clio reported that Roger seemed to go crazy and was floundering around like a wild man, she had no idea of

how she was understanding the actual situation; for Gharlane of Eddore, then energizing the form of flesh that was

Roger, had for the first time in his prodigiously long life met in direct conflict with an overwhelming superior

force.

Roger had been sublimely confident that he could detect the use, anywhere in or around his planetoid, of

ultra-wave. He had been equally sure that he could control directly and absolutely the physical activities of any

number of these semi-intelligent "human beings."

But four Arisians in fusion-Drounli, Brolenteen, Nedanillor, and Kredigan-had been on guard for weeks. When the

time came to act, they acted.

Roger's first thought, upon discovering what tremendous and inexplicable damage had already been done, was to

destroy instantly the two men who were doing it. He could not touch them. His second was to blast out of

existence this supposedly human female, but no more could he touch her. His fiercest mental bolts spent

themselves harmlessly three millimeters away from her skin; she gazed into his eyes completely unaware of the

torrents of energy pouring from them. He could not even aim a weapon at her! His third was to call for help to

Eddore. He could not. The sub-ether was closed; nor could he either discover the manner of its closing or trace the

power which was keeping it closed!

His Eddorian body, even if he could recreate it here, could not withstand the environment-this Roger-thing would

have to do whatever it could, unaided by Gharlane's mental powers. And, physically, it was a very capable body

indeed. Also, it was armed and armored with mechanisms of Gharlane's own devising; and Eddore's

second-in-command was in no sense a coward.

But Roger, while not exactly a ground-gripper, did not know how to handle himself without weight; whereas Cos-

tigan, given six walls against which to push, was even more efficient in weightless combat than when handicapped

by the force of gravitation. Keeping his projector upon the pirate, he seized the first clue to hand-a long, slender

pedestal of metal-launched himself past the pirate chief. With all the momentum of his mass and velocity and all

the power of his good right arm he swung the bar at the pirate's head. That fiercely-driven mass of metal should

have taken head from shoulders, but it did not. Roger's shield of force was utterly rigid and impenetrable; the only

effect of the frightful blow was to set him spinning, end over end, like the flying baton of an acrobatic drummajor.

As the spinning form crashed against the opposite wall of the room Bradley floated in, carrying Clio's armor.

Without a word the captain loosened the helpless girl's grip upon the bracket and encased her in the suit. Then,

supporting her at the window, he held his Lewiston upon the captive's head while Costigan propelled him towards

the opening. Both men knew that Roger's shield of force must be threatened every instant-that if he were allowed

to release it he probably would bring to bear a hand-weapon even superior to their own.

Braced against the wall, Costigan sighted along Roger's body towards the most distant point of the lofty dome of

the artificial planet and gave him a gentle push. Then, each grasping Clio by an arm, the two officers shoved

mightily with their feet and the three armored forms darted away towards their only hope of escape-an emergency

boat which could be launched through the shell of the great globe. To attempt to reach the Hyperion and to escape

in one of her lifeboats would have been useless; they could not have forced the great gates of the main airlocks and

no other exits existed. As they sailed onwards through the air, Costigan keeping the slowly-floating form of Roger

enveloped in his beam. Clio began to recover.

"Suppose they get their gravity fixed?" she asked, apprehensively. "And they're raying us and shooting at us!" "They

may have it fixed already. The undoubtedly have spare parts and duplicate generators, but if they turn it on the fall

will kill Roger too, and he wouldn't like that. They'll have to get him down with a helicopter or something, and they

know that we'll get them as fast as they come up. They can't hurt us with hand-weapons, and before they can bring

up any heavy stuff they'll be afraid to use it, because we'll be too close to their shell.

"I wish we could have brought Roger along," he continued, savagely, to Bradley. "But you were right, of course-it'd

be altogether too much like a rabbit capturing a wildcat. My Lewiston's about done right now, and there can't be

much left of yours-what he'd do to us would be a sin and a shame."

Now at the great wall, the two men heaved mightily upon a lever, the gate of the emergency port swung slowly

open, and they entered the miniature cruiser of the void. Costigan, familiar with the mechanism of the craft from

careful study from his prison cell, manipulated the controls. Through gate after massive gate they went, until

finally they were out in open space, shooting towards distant Tellus at the maximum acceleration of which their

small craft was capable.

Costigan cut the other two phones out of circuit and spoke, his attention fixed upon some extremely distant point.

"Samms!" he called sharply. "Costigan. We're out . . . all right . . . yes . . . sure ... absolutely . . . you tell 'em" Sammy,

I've got company here."

Through the sound-discs of their helmets the girl and the captain had heard Costigan's share of the conversation.

Bradley stared at his erstwhile first officer in amazement, and even Clio had often heard that mighty, half-mythical

name. Surely that bewildering young man must rank high, to speak so familiarly to Virgil Sammy, the all-powerful

head of the space-pervading Service of the Triplanetary League!

"You've turned in a general call-out," Bradley stared, rather than asked.

"Long ago-I've been in touch right along," Costigan answered. "Now that they know what to look for and know that

ether-wave detectors are useless, they can find it. Every vessel in seven sectors, clear down to the scout patrols, is

concentrating on this point, and the call is out for all battleships and cruisers afloat. There are enough operatives

out there with ultra-waves to locate that globe, and once they spot it they'll point it out to all the other vessels."

"But how about the other prisoners?" asked the girl. "they'll be killed" won't they?"

"Hard telling," Costigan shrugged. "Depends on how things turn out. We lack a lot of being safe ourselves yet."

"What's worrying me mostly is our own chance," Bradley assented. "They will chase us, of course."

"Sure, and they'll have more speed than we have. Depends on how far away the nearest Triplanetary vessels are. But

we've done everything we can do, for now."

Silence fell, and Costigan cut in Clio's phone and came over to the seat upon which she was reclining, white and

stricken-worn out by the horrible and terrifying ordeals of the last few hours. As he seated himself beside her she

blushed vividly, but her deep blue eyes met his grey ones steadily.

"Clio, I . ..we. . . you ... that is," he flushed hotly and stopped. This secret agent, whose clear, keen brain no physical

danger could cloud; who had proved over and over again that he was never at a loss in any emergency, however

desperate-this quick-witted officer floundered in embarrassment like any schoolboy; but continued, doggedly: "I'm

afraid that I gave myself away back there, but . . ."

"We gave ourselves away, you mean," she filled in the pause. "I did my share, but I won't hold you to it if you don't

want-but I know that you love me, Conway!"

"Love you!" the man groaned, his face lined and hard, his whole body rigid. "That doesn't half tell it, Clio. You don't

need to hold me-I'm held for life. There never was a woman who meant anything to me before, and there never will

be another. You're the only woman that ever existed. It isn't that. Can't you see that it's impossible?" "Of course I

can't-it isn't impossible at all." She released her shields, four hands met and tightly clasped, and her low voice

thrilled with feeling as she went on: "You love me and I love you. That is all that matters."

"I wish it were," Costigan returned bitterly, "but you don't know what you'd be letting yourself in for. It's who and

what you are and who and what I am that's griping me. You, Clio Marsden, Curtis Marsden's daughter. Nineteen

years old. You think you've been places and done things. You haven't. You haven't seen or done anything-you don't

know what it's all about. And whom am I to love a girl like you? A homeless space hound who hasn't been on any

planet three weeks in three years. A hard-boiled egg. A trouble-shooter and a brawler by instinct and training. A sp .

. ." he bit off the word and went on quickly: "Why, you don't know me at all, and there's a lot of me that you never

will know-that I can't let you know! You'd better lay off me, girl" while you can. It'll be best for you" believe me."

"But I can't, Conway, and neither can you," the girl answered softly, a glorious light in her eyes. "It's too late for

that. On the ship it was just another of those things, but since then we've come really to know each other, and we're

sunk. The situation is out of control, and we both know it-and neither of us would change it if we could, and you

know that, too. I don't know very much, I admit, but I do know what you thought you'd have to keep from me, and I

admire you all the more for it. We all honor the Service, Conway dearest-it is only you men who have made and are

keeping the Three Planets fit places to live in-and I know that any one of Virgil Samms' assistants would have to be

a man in a thousand million . . ."

"What makes you think that?" he demanded sharply. "You told me so yourself, indirectly. Who else in the three

worlds could possibly call him "Sammy?" You are hard" of course, but you must be so-and I never did like soft men,

anyway. And you brawl in a good cause. You are very much a man, my Conway; a real" real man, and I love you!

Now, if they catch us, all right-we'll die together" at least!" she finished, intensely.

"You're right, sweetheart, of course," he admitted. "I don't believe that I could really let you let me go, even though I

know you ought tp," and their hands locked together even more firmly than before. "If we ever get out of this jam

I'm going to kiss you, but this is no time to be taking off your helmet. In fact, I'm taking too many chances with you

in keeping your shields off. Snap 'em on again-they ought to be getting fairly close by this time."

Hands released and armor again tight, Costigan went over to join Bradley at the control board.

"How are they coming, Captain?" he asked.

"Not so good. Quite a ways off yet. At least an hour" I'd say, before a cruiser can get within range."

"I'll see if I can locate any of the pirates chasing us. If I do it'll be by accident; this little spy-ray isn't good for much

except close work. I'm afraid the first warning we'll have will be when they take hold of us with a tractor or spear us

with a needle. Probably a beam, though; this is one of their emergency lifeboats and they wouldn't want to destroy

it unless they have to. Also, I imagine that Roger wants us alive pretty badly. He has unfinished business with all

three of us, and I can well believe that his "not particularly pleasant extinction" will be even less so after the way we

rooked him."

"I want you to do me a favor, Conway." Clio's face was white with horror at the thought of facing again that un-

speakable creature of grey. "Give me a gun or something, please. I don't want him ever to look at me that way again"

to say nothing of what else he might do, while I'm alive."

"He won't," Costigan assured her, narrow of eye and grim of jaw. He was" as she had said, hard. "But you don't want

a gun. You might get nervous and use it too soon. I'll take care of you at the last possible moment, because if he

gets hold of us we won't stand a chance of getting away again."

For minutes there was silence. Costigan surveying the ether in all directions with his ultra-wave device. Suddenly

he laughed, and the others stared at him in surprise.

"No, I'm not crazy," he told them. "This is really funny; it had never occurred to me that the ether-walls of all these

ships make them invisible. I can see them, of course, with this sub-ether spy, but they can't see us! I knew that they

should have overtaken us before this. I've finally found them. They've passed us, and are now tacking around, wait-

ing for us to do something so that they can see us! They're heading right into the Fleet-they think they're safe, of

course, but what a surprise they've got coming to them!"