Late on the second day Curt was off duty when there came a soft rap on his stateroom door, and Kueelo entered. "The girl is studying maps of the K'Yarthan Swamp," he announced. "Jeffers and Rikert are at the controls. I think they will bear watching, those two." Curt nodded. He studied Kueelo. The little Martian was over his anger, but now he seemed strangely perturbed. "I've been waiting to speak to you alone, Curt Emmons. Remember, Jeffers couldn't understand why you brought _me_ along? I've wondered the same thing. From the very first. There were many others to choose for the escape, strong ones like Rikert." "You made it, didn't you?" Curt snapped. "Before this is over, you may wish you were back at the Prison mines." "That doesn't answer my question. Why did you select _me_?" Curt hesitated. "All right. If you must know, I always had a feeling you didn't belong at the Prison. Sure, I knew you were a 'political.' But no ordinary one! And I don't think your name is Kueelo!" He watched the other's face, saw emotion ripple across the chiselled features. "So," the Martian said softly. "I thought you might have guessed. Was it the tune, the little aria I always sang? Many times I could feel you listening. I sensed that you knew ... but I could not keep it within me, Emmons!" "Doesn't that aria occur somewhere in the _Deimian Cabal_?" "So you know that! But for you--for any Earthman--" "I know very little about it," Curt said quickly. "I've heard that it's rooted in your religion somehow, but the thing's meaningless to me." * * * * * Kueelo stood still and straight. Curt could almost see the emotion welling up inside him like a slow ocean tide. Then Kueelo made up his mind. He spoke rapidly and without pause. "You are right. My name is not Kueelo. I am Tor Ekkov, Supreme Co-ordinator of the Society of Deimos on Mars! This cannot mean much to you, an Earthman, so I'll tell you only this--when the occasion demands we can, and often have, served as a balancewheel in the politics of Mars. Jal Tagar knew this when he took over Mars six years ago. Oh, he planned well! The twelve Co-ordinators throughout Mars were simultaneously arrested. It was a paralyzing blow. And Jal Tagar took me, the supreme Co-ordinator, by a most treacherous ruse--" The little Martian paused. Hate blazed in the indomitable black depths of his eyes. "So Jal Tagar completed his _coup_, and Mars was under his heel. He deemed that death was too good for _me_. Only the Mercury mines would do, for that was a slow death." "You paint a dark picture, Kueelo, or, rather, Tor Ekkov, but all this was six years ago! The Federation has recognized Jal Tagar's government. He has ruled well, and Mars has co-operated in every...." Tor Ekkov paced the floor, stopped in front of Curt.