"Originally the robots were controlled telepathically. Why can't that work now--for us?" "Don't you imagine I thought of that? But it's no use, without one of them helmet-transmitters. And there aren't any...." Willard sucked in his breath. "Hold on! I'd forgotten something. There's one transmitter left--just one. But it's not a portable." "Swell!" "Wait a minute. Come over here." The older man led the way to a tripod-projector, found a cylindrical black object, and slipped it into place. "Look at this." Peering through the eye-pieces, Garth recognized the great cavern with the dais at one end. The scene shifted, showing the gigantic twelve-foot robot sitting on its throne, a solid block of black metal. "Watch," Willard said. A voice spoke in Garth's mind, in the Ancient Tongue. "It was necessary to impress the superstitious Zarno. Thus we created this robot god and placed it on its throne. Its radioatomic brain can be controlled telepathically by means of a transmitter concealed within the throne." The scene changed, showing the back of the ebony block. A hand, inhuman, six-fingered, came into view--the hand of an Ancient. It touched a concealed spring, and the throne's back slid open, revealing a compartment easily large enough to hold a man. "Here is the transmitter. It is placed on the head and the will focused on issuing telepathic commands to the robot god on the throne." There was more, but now Garth watched with only half his mind. He scarcely saw the details of the ritual ceremony with which the Ancients had impressed the Zarno. When the vision vanished, he swung about, a new light in his eyes. "That's it, Doc! That robot god's going to come to life!" * * * * * Willard frowned. "_Um-m._ The gadget isn't difficult to operate--I've learned that much from the recordings. You just think hard, that's all. But--" "The god will come to life and summon the Zarno--all of them. The rest of you can escape while I'm keeping 'em busy." "Hold on!" the doctor snapped. "Why you? It's my job, if it's anybody's." "Sorry," Garth said. "It doesn't work out that way. You're the only guy who can cure the Silver Plague. Unless you get out safely, it's the end of Earth." Willard didn't answer. Garth went on swiftly. "You could reach the hangar if it weren't for the Zarno. Well, I'll get inside that throne and start the ruckus. That'll give you time." His voice was emotionless. "How do you know you could reach that temple-cave? The city's full of Zarno." Garth shrugged. "It's a chance we've got to take. The only one." Willard chewed his lip. "Why the devil do you have to be the one?" "Because I know the Ancient Tongue. The robot can talk, can't it? Well! It's between you and me, Doc, and you're the boy who can cure the Silver Plague. You can't get away from that." "I-I suppose so. But--"