But the close rapport between the various portions of his mind was a good guide. The Queen flew swiftly towards that ventilator, her swarm following closely at her command. Into and through the vent she flew, and almost before the four men inside were aware of the strange buzzing, she was directing her swarm towards them. "Bees!" Panek yelled in terror, and the four started fighting the hundreds that swarmed all over each of them. That may have been their mistake--had Panek and the other two stood perfectly still it was a bare possibility they might have survived, although in Hanlon's grimly determined frame of mind that was now doubtful. Not that Hanlon was angry, even at Panek for the terrible beating of his unconscious body. For he realized it was the man's cruel, sadistic nature; that he could not have acted otherwise. But Hanlon knew now that the peace of the Federation demanded that he live and be free to make his report, and only the death of His Highness and the others could now possibly save him. So, much as it sickened him, Hanlon had to keep on, and as those bee-stings plunged in their hundreds into the four, the poison working far more swiftly than does the venom of Terrestrial bees--more akin to that of the mamba--one after another of the four fell to the floor and were quiet--stung to death. Hanlon then sent the Queen and her swarm back outside, after first impressing on her mind that she must fly far away if she was to survive. He could not send her to her death by the gardeners after she had saved his life. As she flew away he recalled his mind back from her and the nineteen birds, into his body. He sat erect once more--but instantly such a tide of pain washed over him that he nearly fainted. For all the agony of that terrible beating hit him at once. His mind, too, was sluggish and slow once it was back in his own brain where that drug had taken effect. But he felt a sense of satisfaction and gratitude that he had come safely thus far through that terrible ordeal. The drug would wear off, the wounds would heal, and the pain would disappear in time. Meanwhile, he was alive ... impossible as it seemed, he was _alive_! But George Hanlon had enough mind-power functioning in spite of the truth-drug, to realize he was not yet out of the pit. His body was still manacled to the chair, that in turn was fastened to the floor so he could not move it. He was still inside the palace of the conspirators, and it would undoubtedly not be too long before someone would enter the room seeking His Highness, and would find him and the dead men. For desperate minutes Hanlon considered every angle of the matter, and found only one possibility that might offer some chance of release and safety.