He said, "It was a clever trap you set for me, Garroway. You announced a council meeting which you knew I must attend; you surround yourself not with your generals, as was expected, but with guards. You listened to the advice of your daughter, used rock-quartz to make my body visible--" "--and," added Garroway complacently, "prepared an electric wave-transmitter that disrupted your own instrument, trapped you in our presence, and makes it impossible for you to escape. "Well--" His voice changed abruptly--"your puny attempt to overthrow me has failed, Morris. As a fighter, I cannot restrain a certain degree of admiration for your effort, but as Emperor of the System, there is one thing I can, and must, do. _Guards--!_" His voice was a thin snarl. But as hulking stalwarts moved forward to perform his bidding, another slighter figure hastened before them to confront her parent. The Princess Lenore. "Wait!" she commanded. "What means this, my parent? Why do you call the guards?" "Return to your apartment, Lenore!" ordered Garroway sternly. "You have served your purpose. It is not seemly you should witness the judgment on this rebel." "Have you forgotten your promise?" raged the woman. "You cannot kill this man. You pledged me his life!" "Forget this foolish whim!" bade her father. "He is but an underling. Surely there are other men--" "I want this one!" insisted Lenore. For a moment her dark, vivid eyes touched Dirk's with lingering ferocity ... and despite the tenseness of the moment, the peril of his situation, Dirk Morris could not restrain the quick thrill of admiration and ... something else which burned through him. His brain tossed in a turmoil of conflicting emotions. He understood, now, why an ungovernable impulse had caused him to sweep this girl into his arms that night in her apartment. It was because she was ... she was his type of woman! A hard, gallant, ruthless fighting-woman who knew what she wanted and would adopt any measures to get it. There was Rima on Nadron ... true. He respected her. For her he felt--though he had known her but a short time--a great tenderness and affection. But it was not true love. It was a brotherly feeling; a comfortable confidence in her presence and companionship. _This_ girl, the Princess Lenore, alone could stir his veins to running fire; she alone quickened a hungry spark within him. It was mad ... it was impossible ... but true. He loved--and the knowledge of it struck Dirk Morris with brutally staggering force--he loved an enemy and the daughter of his bitterest foe! Stranger yet ... she loved him! Now she was talking again, hurriedly arguing a case to win his life.