"We're not," Jim said. "Noir will blast every vestige of life from Spor. The Martians know. They offer refuge on their planet, till you find another Spor. We can remove the first thousand. The Martians will send other ships, if you agree." "If we agree." Tarquin stood beside the terrace parapet, with the skyline of Osmand gilded in a low sun. A shaft of light struck a passenger plane bound for a landing field. Cries of children, picnicking across the river in a park, drifted to us. Tarquin twisted a bit of paper into a wad, tossed it to the lawn. Then he turned to Jim. "I'll radio the other governors," he said. "We must place this information before them all, and let the people vote." "Elections," Jim cried. "That will take weeks. We've got to act now. Shadrak says the dark nebula has tripled its speed toward Maj in the last seven days." "Yes," Tarquin agreed simply. "That has been noted too, from our observatory. Last night two stars were blotted out. I'm sorry, my friends, if we delay. But that is the way to act. Now, if you'll pardon me, I'll invite the governors for a conference." To our surprise Tarquin summoned Garok with the others. He was unlike the others, a spare, square jawed man no older than Jim Drake, eyes tending to the shifty side and with the gift of an orator. He could hardly wait till Tarquin delivered his talk of our mission. I could see the other governors refused to be stirred as Tarquin. One, Dalin, a fat, amiable chap, laughed. "Nonsense," he exclaimed. "I'll grant you these young men may have come from Earth as they come, but they could be putting over a giant hoax," he added shrewdly. "But the astronomers sighted them five thousand miles away," Tarquin interrupted impatiently. "These men have instruments beyond our knowledge." "Probably stolen," Garok spoke for the first time. His manner was swaggering, contemptuous. "For all we know they're adventurers from another planet. And if not, why must we meet to be told fairy tales. What of a dark cloud? Going to destroy Spor! Bah. A story to frighten children with. Is this what you brought us here to discuss?" This to Tarquin. The governor of Osmand flushed. I saw Jim's fists clench, but he remained silent. "We're not here to give opinions, when we don't know what we're talking about," he snapped. "All our astronomers agree the dark nebula is sweeping in like a tidal wave. These men journeyed into our solar system to warn us. I believe them. The question is, do the people of Spor want to believe, and act. That is the question. I propose a referendum, the subject explained over our radio nets, to be held one week from today." "That date may be too late," Jim warned. "I suggest--" "Bah," Garok cut in. "You want a panic, so that you can loot us." That was when Jim sprang to his feet and struck Garok. The leader of Plevia went down. But he was up and charging like a mad bull a moment later.