"Filaments of glass containing electrified carbon dioxide gases exuded by specially reared plants. Carbon dioxide emits a light much like ordinary daylight. We have perfected that until our inner and outer light is the same." A rounded chamber whose cool blue walls reflected heat and absorbed moisture contained chairs and tables so similar to Earth products that Jonathan started. "They look like a futurist's dream, but they're remarkably like our own," he acknowledged. "This is the Court of Counsellors for bipeds. The other courts are different, naturally, being suited to the individual needs of the various visitors Neeoorna plays host to. Were you or a Zarathzan to enter some of them, you would die instantly from cold and deadly gases, or terrific heat. That is, unless you were forewarned as to what to expect." Jonathan puzzled over that for a moment. No amount of foreknowledge made deadly cold any hotter, nor did it turn noxious fumes into pure air. He shrugged. He must be tired, after all. Maybe a rest was what he needed. The reptile gestured Jonathan to a glassine couch covered with the spotted fur of some jungle beast. It looked soft. It invited him, dumbly. Jonathan dropped on it and stretched out his legs. "Neeoornians call me Shar Bytu," said the reptile, gazing down at him. "If you need aught, mention my name. Tell them you are the representative of Earth." Jonathan knew his eyelids were blotting out sight of the great lizard. He tried to mumble thanks, but a gentle torpor crept about him, embracing his brain, his tired, tired brain. He was _so_ tired.... A soft hand on his forearm awakened him; brought him up sharply, alarmed, like a panther. The girl who bent above him drew back in alarm, her violet eyes wide, thin nostrils flared, a cry hovering on her wet red mouth. She looked at Jonathan again and read the swift admiration in his eyes, and smiled. "You frightened me," she accused softly, her lips undecided between a pout and a smile. "You are so big, so strong--like a dappled claw-thing of my native Zarathza." So this was a Zarathzan. Jonathan found her good to look at. Her skin was a pale lavender, so delicately flushed that it seemed some strange, rare satin. Her hair was black, and coiled in coronas about her intelligent, shapely head. Her deeply glowing eyes were bright with laughter, and Jonathan thought her mouth would be perfect for kisses. "We are not fighters, we Zarathzans. At least with our bodies, like you Earthlings," she said, looking at him sidewise. "It has been long since our kind were--beasts." Jonathan grinned hugely. "It's been a long time since a girl called me that. Must be something about me." "Oh," whispered the girl hurriedly, putting a soft hand to his arm, "I do not mean to offend. Sometimes I admire the--beasts." Well, he was getting on. He was keenly aware of her warm hand on his forearm. The girl felt his thought; flushed a little and stood up.