With that, he stepped out and closed and locked the door. A moment later the dome light snapped off, and the savant was left, alone and helpless, in total darkness. How long he hung there in his suspended chair in complete silence the professor had no means of knowing. Suddenly, however, sounds came to him which indicated that projectiles of some sort were striking the outer shell of the craft. Despite his predicament, he smiled to himself in the darkness, for this was, he felt sure, the reply of his friend, General Fu Yen to his hastily written note. He felt the craft dart suddenly upward a short time thereafter, and was thankful for the coiled springs which surrounded his chair. Had they not been there to absorb the shock, he would have been badly injured if not killed outright by so sudden a movement of the globe. For some time he could sense the quick movements of the craft hither and thither, while projectiles rattled intermittently against its armor. Then it settled down to a swift sustained flight and the bombardment ceased. The even flight was maintained for several hours. Then projectiles rattled once more against the shell of the craft. This second bombardment lasted for perhaps five minutes. Then the globe shot suddenly upward with such terrific speed that, protected though he was by the coiled springs, the professor lost consciousness. When he regained his senses once more, the savant was being unstrapped from his chair by Lin Ching. Another Lunite was holding a bottle of some pungent smelling liquid beneath his nostrils. The sharp fumes smarted them, and he jerked his head back to escape the pain, whereupon Lin Ching smiled. “So you flinch at the smell of _sarvadine_, ah, Am-Er-I-Khan? It will be a pleasure to watch you when the real torture begins.” “Where are we?” asked the professor, noticing that the motion of the globe had ceased. “In Peilong, the capitol city of His Imperial Majesty, P’an-ku,” replied Lin Ching. “Excellent!” exclaimed the professor, whereupon Lin Ching, dumfounded, prodded him with his sword and ordered him to get out into the passageway and keep moving. At his first step he bumped his head on the ceiling, then fell to the floor in a heap. Convinced that he was indeed on the moon, by this demonstration of the lessened gravity pull, he carefully got up, and made his way forward with a peculiar, toddling gait that seemed to amuse his captors. As he emerged from the diamond-shaped doorway in the shell of the craft, he saw that the great globe had settled into a circular depression in the level floor of a great dock made to contain its lower half. All around him similar depressions were occupied by craft of exactly the same size and type. It seemed that P’an-ku had a quite formidable armada.