"Zetta, dear, what do you mean? Have you some plan--something, later to-night--" She knew so much more of conditions here in the camp than I did; she had had more freedom, living almost unguarded in a house with one old woman. And she spoke the language of these Brauns. If she had a plan it would be more rational than mine! "What is it?" I demanded. "What did you mean by that?" "Peter, hush! Trust me." She shook me off. "You go to bed. Please, I ask that of you! Trust me--I know best." She leaped away, leaving me standing there. I occupied alone a little house which had been built for me by Graff. It stood at an end of one of the cross-streets, where the gray blank waste land stretched out to the distant line of barrage. The dry river bed was near it. My bedroom had one barred door and two barred windows. My guard, relieved by another at intervals, sat by the door. Occasionally at night I could hear him prowling about the house. I went to bed, but could not sleep. The darkness of my room seemed luminous with purple haze--the protecting purple glow which hung throughout the camp. The world outside had no such protection. The broadcast crimson vibrations were seeking out every tiny corner of the earth. I must have drifted off--I was awakened by a hand over my mouth; a dark form was beside me in the blackness; a voice murmured in my ear. "Peter! Be quiet! Don't struggle!" Zetta's voice! I relaxed. Then I sat up. I could see her dimly. She was dressed in a tight-fitting black smock; tight, long trousers to her ankles, joining black cloth shoes. A black hood, pushed back with dangling mask. Black gloves pulled up over her tight black sleeves. The insulating fabric! "Quiet, Peter! Here, put these on. Hurry!" She thrust garments at me. In a moment I was dressed like herself. We carried our Infra-red goggles and ear-grids in our hands. There was no time for me to question; she gave me a long curved pod-knife. "If you have to, use it, Peter. I will lead--hurry--" I sensed her shudder. The knife was wet. I knew why; in the darkness outside, my guard lay motionless, sprawled face down on the ground. Zetta leaped, I stepped over him. She waited for me; then leaped lightly forward again. The camp was dark and silent; we avoided a low-humming purple projector. I ran, with Zetta leaping ahead of me. We got safely past the houses. The insects were quartered at the opposite end of the town. None were allowed abroad at night; I was thankful for that. The night was overcast, darker, it seemed, than before. I wondered how near dawn it was; probably very near. Zetta came to the bed of the dry water-course; jumped down into it. I climbed down, thirty feet, perhaps. In the blackness I ran forward.