"I am young," came the unbidden thought, "and still able--" <i>No!</i> He rearranged that astounding thought. He was young, deathless. He was annointed with a great destiny. Destiny? No, Devil Star, you shall arrange your destiny. ... <i>Youth.</i> The fifteenth, the twentieth, the thirtieth bands. He searched them all, unhurrying, dawdling, experiencing no sense of failure. He was content. <i>You are young, Devil Star! You are still young!</i> The sub-thought was screaming at him. He did not hurry. <tb> He came to the thirty-fifth band, where unattached colors of violent hue did their spasmic dances through matterless space. ... <i>Youth. There is still time, not for this, but for that other!</i> The forty-first. The forty-sixth. He made his leisurely transit into the forty-seventh. And then there was chaos. A jumble, a mumble of burning thoughts that turned him into something he had no mind to recognize. He was chaos. Recognition again. Wave upon wave of horror rolled over him. Condensing energy rained from his outer to his inner body. For he knew what he had tried to do--tried, again and again, and, time after time, had failed to do: to enter the forty-eighth band. In his chaos, he had hurled himself at that unseen wall, and time after time, it had hurled him back. He could not enter. Thought came slowly. He was numbed with the attack of the monster inside him. Fleetingly, knowledge came. But it was gone before he could snatch it. Then he blundered like a blinded creature down the bands. He knew what he must do, what he could not deny. He left that galaxy, plunged across the winding arteries where dark flowed, was in the galaxy of his birth. And at last, alone in space, he faced her. "It is you," she said wonderingly. "Devil Star." His returning thoughts were heavy. "Yes, World Rim. And I have come to keep my promise. To go with you to the place I found." She was searching him, whirling nearer, intent with her visions. And he saw with shock that she was changed in some way he could not put into words. "We will go now," he said. Still she searched him. Uneasily she rotated against her starred background. She brooded. Then, with chilling reluctance, she said, "Very well, we shall go to this place. Where is it?" World Rim was older than when he last saw her; he knew, coldly, that she had had children. And yet she seemed still naive. He was impatient. "<i>I</i> shall follow <i>you</i>," he said. A subtle change came over her. She stared. And her thought came. "Very well, Devil Star! Follow me!" In growing delight, he followed her up the bands, as obedient to his ruinous emotions as any unsuspecting purple light who had followed that path before him. Finally he burst through into the tenth band. World Rim was there, inert in space, watching a tiny, faceted star. Suddenly he was chilled by the immensity of her abstraction. "Green light!" he whispered.