"This time," he said heavily, "we won't get away. For already they are close upon us. Our rust-colored hull is easy to see. And they're already racing to get between us and the cosmic cloud--Kel can't pull _that_ again!" "Don't need to." The Earthman still wore the grimed, gaudy togs of old Naralek. The brilliant patch of the sandbat was still plastered to his shoulder like some diamond-winged, colossal moth. But his lean body stood very straight, and his gray eyes flashed with a fighting glint. The swarm of red stars--the flaring repulsors that drove our pursuers--grew and spread. A flight of them swept up beside us. Deadly blue needles began to probe for us. And Kel Aran turned gravely from the danger without, to the telescreen cabinet. "--spies!" It was the boom of Gugon Kul. "Enemies of the Corporation and the Empire! They must be taken." Something clicked. "Hold on, Admiral!" The voice of Kel Aran had the cracked nasal twang of the old showman of space. "Remember what Setsi told you, in the booth?" The reply was an incoherent bellow. "I do, by the Emperor!" It became at last comprehensible. "And it proves that your circus is a ring of spies!" "Perhaps," rapped Kel Aran. "But it proves that you are something worse. We know ten times more than Setsi told you. Do you remember the game on Ledros, when you played three ships of your command against a slave-girl, and lost them to Malgarth? Do you remember how you got the funds you paid for the five Moons of Haari? Do you remember--" He was interrupted by a choking roar. "If you don't like to be reminded, Admiral," the Earthman cut in again, "call off your ships. Otherwise, we'll tell all your fleet why the stores are rotten! And why the pay was cut!" The sandbat fluttered on his shoulder, like a mist of diamond light. "Oh, Admiral, beware!" caroled the silicon being. "Setsi'll tell! Oh, oh, Admiral, what a world Setsi'll tell. For Setsi knows! Setsi knows about the secret cabin in your ship, and those you imprison there, and the deadly drug _ixili_!" "Eh?" rapped Kel Aran, into the stark silence. "Shall we broadcast, Admiral?" And the sandbat, clinging like a gem-sewn patch to his shoulder, made a mockingly melodious chuckle. A long silence, while I could hear the Admiral's gasping breath. "All right," said Kel Aran. And his fingers touched the controls of the screen. "No, don't broadcast!" It was a hoarse, whispered gasp. "I'll call back the fleet. And we must make a rendezvous--for I will reward you." "Very well," and Kel Aran grinned. "You'll meet me?" gasped the Admiral. "Where? When?" "On black Mystoon," rang the reckless voice of Kel Aran. "On the night that Malgarth dies!" There was a pause, a dread in the voice that answered. "Mystoon? But Mystoon is forbidden to all save the robots; its very location is unknown, even, to men. How can we meet there? And don't you know that Malgarth can never die?" "I'll find a way," the Earthman promised him. "And I don't know."