I remember how we stood by while Tarquin started at daylight, over the radio net, explaining it all, and the news agencies were waking up. Crowds gathered on streets. People stared at us, some without enthusiasm, and we weren't surprised when Tarquin assigned us guards. We were getting blamed for the scare, it appeared. By night we were directed to return to Tarquin's home. Garok, it seemed, was taking to the radio, making charges, promising to capture and punish us for trying to create a panic on Spor. Overnight crowds formed outside the grounds of the governor's home. A large detachment had to guard our ship, and we made arrangements to return to it. And during these three days the grim, dark threat of Noir came on, invincible, inevitable, overspreading one third of the firmament, blotting out star after star. Shadrak offered no advice, strangely enough. But he kept us apprised of reports from Martian astronomers. And then, as citizens of the city states poured out to vote on the question Tarquin had put before them, Garok struck. He came with wave after wave of planes, and he dropped bomb after bomb of outlawed explosives, not for destruction, but to send the city into a panic. Too late Jim and I realized we had been a blessing to Garok. In upsetting the placid lives of the city states, we had furnished motive and opportunity to strike. It wasn't an invasion such as they used to have on Earth. But it was onesided, Tarquin's police force pitifully inadequate. And so as the planes landed, disgorging squads of men, armed with peculiar flame throwers, Osmand was taken and the referendum forgotten. * * * * * In our refuge, with no arms save our ray guns, Jim and I looked helplessly on. So far we had been unmolested. I thought of the little single seater planes used as Earth patrols, and the blasting charge in the nose, reserved for emergencies. Jim was pacing the control room like a caged tiger. Shadrak was away from his post and we had transcribed our report of Garok's coming, for his screen. Now he signaled us, somewhat excitedly. Evidently he hadn't seen the transcription, for he spoke rapidly. "You have ten hours left," he cried, "before the Noir invades Maj. Ten more hours and you cannot leave Spor. Act at once." Jim reported in crisp accents of events. Shadrak swore in fluent Martian. Then he told us to open an emergency locker. At once robot trucks wheeled out a dandy two seater patrol car, with 20 millimeter ray guns for armament. "Destroy Garok's force where necessary," Shadrak ordered. "That completed, proceed at once with loading. Remove Tarquin's family first. He must be saved at all cost."