Far below them, covering a large section of desert, were row after row of blunt-nosed objects, looking like tiny silvery bugs, except they were motionless. But they weren't bugs. They were space-ships. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them in formidable array. Ketrik stared, then turned to Devries and exclaimed: "Hah! Thought you said these Proktols stuck close to home! Off-hand I'd say they've got other ideas now. I wonder what? I don't like the look of that fleet down there!" But now their spacer was gliding in low over the city, settling down into landing cradles. Janus turned to his men. "If we see a chance, we'd better make a break for it! I'd like to get at the Controls of this ship just once!" "I'd rather get at our atom-blasts!" Ketrik snapped. But they had no chance to do either. A score of the Proktols, with flame-pistols alert, came to escort them out. As they marched down a wide avenue thousands of the gathered populace gave vent to prolonged shouting, or rather shrilling. It was definitely unfriendly, and somehow fanatical, anticipatory. The Earthmen looked at these inhabitants with interest. They seemed to be Proktols too, but in several ways were different from V'Naric and the others. They were smaller, hardly four feet tall, and frailer if that were possible. And they had no antennae. Neither did they wear any raiment that the Earthmen could see--evidence of their semi-savagery. But they seemed to respect the larger Proktols, for although their shrilling continued, they kept their distance and didn't touch the Earthmen. "Just listen to those devils!" Blake said. "They're waiting, expecting something!" They reached a vast plaza in the center of the city. Their captors marched them through the mass of shrilling little coppery devils, and into a building; then up a flight of stairs and into a bare stone room with a single tiny window looking out upon the square below. As the last of the Proktols passed out of the room he pressed a key into a slot outside the doorway. A sheet of bluish, crackling flame leaped up from the floor, effectively barring the entrance. * * * * * Janus whirled to the window. A louder sound came swelling up from the tiny savages below as they caught sight of him. "Shut up, we haven't got your damned Shining Stone! I wish V'Naric would tell 'em so," he added, coming away. "Sounds like they want our blood!" Devries had a better idea of what they wanted, but he kept still. They hadn't long to wait. V'Naric came. He left some of his men outside, shut off the electrical barrier and stepped into the room and turned it on again. He held his flame-pistol ready in his hand. "I am indeed sorry to have kept you waiting," he said with over-emphasized politeness, "but I had to consult with the _Lahk-tzor_ as to your disposal. He has waited long. He is anxious to begin." "And who might he be?" asked Janus, glaring.