"Then he is indeed perished. But tell me--how came you to find the cabinet? And from what ancient era came you? Rudra found many signs of life in the ages he traversed, but never a race of Earthmen cultured as yourselves." "We are not from the Past, my Lord, but the Future." "Future! But my brother's machine could not safely move forward in Time! He told me so. Only into the Past--" "Nevertheless, he must have tried. For we found his cabinet in an age five thousands of years later than this." Sugriva nodded dolefully. "Now I can guess why he returned not. He was daring, my brother. Too daring. But--the future, you say? Tell me, then--is my small colony a great and beautiful metropolis in the period whence you came hither?" "Not so, my Lord Sugriva," answered Dr. Aiken regretfully. "Somewhere in the centuries which span between now and our era, an evilness has befallen this colony of yours. For in the world we left behind us, these mighty halls and temples are but a haunting wonder lost in the slumbering sea of leafy jungles." Sugriva's sadness deepened. "This is grievous news you bring me, my friends. If what you say is true, if fifty centuries hence this colony is vanished, its people scattered, then my labors here are of no avail. And my mission on Earth has failed. But--why?" It was a question for which the time-exiles knew no answer. Its solution lay yet in Sugriva's future, and was so far buried in their world's past as to be a forgotten secret. But they were spared the necessity of answering. For at that moment came an interruption. There wakened a flurry of action at the central gate, the doorway opened, and through its great portals swept a woman. And _what_ a woman! She was tall ... much taller than the average man, almost as tall as Ramey himself. But there was no gangling awkwardness to her height. Her figure was perfectly proportioned to her stature. She walked with the slow and lithe and languorous grace of a jungle creature. A panther, perhaps, thought Ramey, with rapt approval watching her move nearer. Yes, assuredly a panther. For she was neither white nor Mongolian. Her skin was the soft, fine ivory of the Eurasian. Ivory, shading to tawny gold with the contours of her body, deepening with the curve of her thigh, the round of her elbow, the shadowy cup of her breasts. Pantherine, too, were her eyes. Triangular eyes, long-lashed and lazy, with pupils of dusty emerald. Captain Kohrisan sprang to attention as she approached, saluted and cried introduction: "My lords--the Lady Rakshasi!" CHAPTER IX "--Or Not to Be" The Lady Rakshasi spoke, and her voice was just what Ramey thought it would be. Throaty and mellow, caressing-low with a throbbing undertone of promise. She addressed Sugriva, and her words included all present, but there was that in her tone, her manner, the sidelong appraisal of her eyes, which made Ramey feel her welcome was for him alone.