The black lens at the end of Mich'l's needle-ray pressed hard, and Lane said naturally: "You have her in custody?" "Sir, we have." And to Mich'l's dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely form half revealed by rents in her garments, seemed to materialize beside the officer. Her wrathful eyes were fixed on Lane, and then she saw Mich'l. The technie put all his will into the pleading stare which he returned, and she understood. She gave no sign of recognition, but favored both Lane and Mich'l equally with the chill of her disdain. "Sir, what are your orders?" Lane glanced aside at Mich'l, acutely conscious of the lethal pressure in his ribs. "'Sall right with me, old fellow," Mich'l squawked good-humoredly. "This your girl that got away from you? Let's both go over and bring her back." Lane nodded assent. The soldier saluted, and his vision and that of the girl disappeared. "And we're going to do just that!" Mich'l added in an entirely changed voice. "Get up, you. Act right, speak right, do right, and you may live to see another day." * * * * * So the two left the warren in apparent amity, and walked the beautiful street, with its richly formed, brightly colored arches, its seemingly illimitable vistas, its luxuriant, pampered decorative vegetation, its blazing lights--until at last they came to Administration Circle, and entered the ponderous gates behind which lay the very heart of the Government. They were challenged at once. Although the officer of the guard knew Lane, usage required the showing of the daily pass. Many high officers of the Government had in years past fallen from grace overnight. This formality complied with, Lane and Mich'l, the latter with his ray-needle ever ready, sat down to wait in the guard room. And Lane, under Mich'l's quiet prompting, ordered that Nida and her father be brought to him. "We shall bring the girl, yes," the astonished officer protested, "but not Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of state." "Perhaps you don't know, Captain," Mich'l suggested smoothly, "that it is not wise to disregard the orders of the Provisional President's son?" "It would cost me my commission, perhaps my life!" the officer said. "Neither would be worth much if you disobey!" Mich'l countered, a wire edge creeping into his voice. The officer looked into Lane's stormy face, then with great reluctance retreated to carry out the order. In about ten minutes he was back, with four guards and his prisoners. He explained that Captain Ilgen was detained on official duty. "You may go," said Lane, prompted by a jab in the ribs. "A written receipt, please, sir, for the senator." Glowering, Lane wrote out the desired document. At last they were alone. "Our program," Mich'l announced briskly, "is simple. You will conduct us to one of the Government cars, and will ride with us to such places as we may direct, and I shall release you when it pleases me. If you then want to fight, I will accommodate you."