Cadmus stumbled to his knees. He crawled, managed to regain his feet, lurched blindly through clouds of choking dust. His clothing hung in strips. Blood seeped from his ears and nose. Somehow he managed to deactivate the rest of the transmats. For although the Machine was now utterly destroyed the great crater that remained was even more deadly in its neutron and gamma radiation than before. The last of the matter transmatters stopped working. The rivers of desperate beings were dammed. On Terra and in the Martian cities, waiting worshippers were wondering what had happened as their own transmat senders stopped functioning. They waited for a long time. They waited until it finally occurred to them that the transmats might never function again. They wondered, and kept on waiting. But three quarters of the Terran and Martian population had been saved from suicide. * * * * * Cadmus dragged himself up the sweeping steps of the council tower. It was dark now. And silent. On three worlds, people waited, not yet aware of the full significance of what had happened. Phobos was a hurtling curse in the sky. Deimos was edging up into the night like an afterthought. Cadmus stumbled. He staggered to the elevator and inside. He watched the lights blinking as he climbed to the Tower's top. He went into a hall leading to the large audi-chamber. A massive bulk lay sprawled in the shadows. Consar III. His flesh was charred. Even the brilliant jewels that had bedecked him seemed exhausted of their luster. Cadmus paused. Consar hadn't wanted to die, not really. He, too, had come to the Tower. He hadn't given up his position of power and wealth easily. He had come to the Tower to attempt to assume the direct power that the Machine had once controlled. Someone had prevented him. Johlan? He peered through the opening into a large, gloomy chamber. It contained the transcription and audiocasting facilities of the council tower. Somewhere, the ten council members, aged children conditioned to voice the dictates of the Machine, were crouched in blank fear. A large audiocasting set was humming in the far corner of the room, a strip of tape running beneath its electronic needle. Cadmus stopped in the shadows. He had made his way to the Tower fast. He had heard that voice from the Tower, and it had changed. He knew whose voice had replaced the voice of the Machine. Johlan. Cadmus' eyes adjusted to the gloom. The Venusians preferred gloom. Then, beside a recorder across the large chamber, Cadmus saw the greenly iridescent body of the Venusian crouched over a microphone, recording more tape for the audiocaster. Cadmus listened to Johlan's voice coming from the loudspeaker atop the Tower.