Down a side street in the darkest shadows slipped a figure. Dark cloaked, treading upon cushioned toes, it crept from building to building, keeping as much as possible in the recesses of arches of the little carved balconies Martian buildings are wont to have. Finally the figure came to a halt in a doorway. It stood for a moment looking around to make sure of the place and then producing a long thin instrument, picked the lock and rolled aside the door. Saknarth stepped softly inside the dark hallway, rolled the door shut. He listened a moment, then assured by silence tip-toed forward up the incline that he knew lay to one side of the hall. Up he climbed. Reaching a floor, he turned quickly and groped for the next incline, reached it and ascended again. Soon he came to where there were no more floors, and pushing aside a trap door, stepped out on the roof. It was not so dark up here. The dim lights of the two tiny moons added to the lights of the myriad stars to cast a misty white glow upon objects. The astrologer tip-toed silently across the roof onto an adjoining one. On he progressed to come finally to the great wall of a building looming up above. Set in this wall was a large window about fifteen feet above his head. Saknarth groped under his cloak, drew out a long thin rope. To the end of this he fastened a small, strong double hook making an effective grappling iron. He stepped back, whirled it around his head and tossed it upwards. It struck the wall just below the sill, bounded back. He waited and listened; no one had heard. Again he tossed the rope; and this time the hook caught in the carved decorations of the window sill. Saknarth pulled; the rope held. He whispered a short prayer and grasping high on the rope raised his feet off the ground. Immediately he swung inward to touch the wall with his feet. Then, slowly and laboriously, climbed up the rope. Reaching the sill, Saknarth threw a leg over and lay quiet for a moment. Still safe. He drew out his lock-picking instrument and easily opened the window enough to permit him to creep through and drop silently on the other side. The long hall was dark and quiet. No one had heard him. He looked up. There next to him loomed the great telescope. * * * * * Saknarth stepped over the railing and perched himself on the observer's seat. He polished the eyepiece fondly, grasped the hand wheels. Turning these, he swung the heavy instrument downwards, down till it faced the open window and the coming dawn. There, low in the heavens hung the Morning Star. It glowed brightly and seemed to beckon and encourage him on. He set the readings on the clockwork adjustment, applied his eye to the lens.