When she was through, he whispered through stiff lips, "This psychoanalyser. It changes men, then?" "Guantra changed several men in council positions with it. He needed their support. He got it. It can make a brave man a craven; or a coward, a hero. It was built by the Ancients, who understood the mind as well as other sciences. They realized that the memory cells that govern many of our habits and thoughts could be altered by hypnotically suggested alterations. They built a machine that would do that. We learned of it, but could never do anything about it. People would have laughed, said we fought Guantra with myths." Kortha growled, "I'm still not sure. But I'll fight Guantra until I can make up my own mind!" Ilse's lips twitched wryly. Her shoulders sagged a little as she leaned against a table, looking up at him. "Fight Guantra? Here in Ruuzol? You are mad, Kortha. There isn't a single gun in Ruuzol. No weaponry of any sort. It can't defend itself; was never intended to. This mesa is one mass of radio laboratories and generators, tubes and condensors." No weapon. No gun. Just a lot of magnifones, and words never killed anybody yet. Kortha bared his teeth in a silent snarl. "I'll broadcast before he can stop me. Let him fire on us, then!" "No. He won't fire, not yet. Have you forgotten the lightning guns? They will cripple all our power. We couldn't broadcast past those metal mountains without power." The lightning guns. Kortha came up short on that. He cursed softly, brows furrowed. Aye, he remembered the lightning guns, psychoanalyser or no psychoanalyser! With them it would be as Ilse said. Guantra would break their power; land men, and take over the city. "The laboratories," he grated. "Get me to your laboratories. There may still be a way to stop those lightning guns." Ilse looked at him; gasped suddenly at the old, flaring lights in his green eyes. She laughed softly, gladly, and turned and ran ahead of him. The ceiling lights were blue and bright, flooding the long laboratory chambers where chrome and steelite glistened and glass fittings refracted rainbows of color against the scalloped walls. Black, short shadows flickered where men stood at their places, staring. "This is Kortha," said Ilse, head flung back, eyes blazing with azure fire. "If anyone can stop Guantra, he can." A sullen giant hulked forward from a bench, arms dangling, scowling, "Surrender to him, _I_ say. We have no chance against the fleet. The rest of you--Guantra has no fight with us. Why do we do what one girl and one man tell us?" Kortha uncoiled, springing. His fist shot out like a flatheaded piston, cracking the sullen man on the jaw. The _splat_ of the blow was loud in the silence broken only by the brrring of the ceiling reflectors lazily rotating. Over the body of the unconscious man, Kortha snarled, "Anyone else advise surrender?" They looked at him, and dropped their eyes. Heads shook.