Returning to Larhana, he said, "We don't have much time now. Cover me while I toss a couple of charges down the hall. As soon as they go off, run across to that other office and get under cover." Quickly he prepared two more charges, setting the igniters for contact. He threw one and it had not yet exploded when he threw the second. The roaring double blast shook the floor and ferro-concrete dust filled the hall. Behind a sheet of flame they raced across the hall. Then, sheltered behind the wall, they waited for the next blast. Savage was ready to believe that something had gone wrong with the igniter when the roaring thunder came. The rolling concussion lifted them and then slammed them with cruel violence to the floor. They lay dazed for a long moment before they were able to get up and return to office five. This time there was no interference. The charge had blown in the heavy door and crushed under it was a twisted needle gun and its crew. Of the five other men in the room, only one seemed capable of movement. He made a feeble effort to raise his blaster and Savage cut him down. They found High Commissioner Czako dazed and bleeding behind his huge desk. Savage hauled him roughly to his feet and jabbed the blaster into his middle. "You're finished, Czako," he said. "Get on the radio and tell your men to lay down their arms." Czako nodded in bitter defeat. * * * * * It was three Trygonian months later when His Highness, Emperor Kalnor met Savage and Larhana at the great space-port. Above them loomed the _Agreet_, ready to depart on its voyage through hyper-space to Terra. "We'll be back someday," Larhana promised. "Yes," agreed Savage. "I'm as much Trygonian now as Terran, but we want to see Terra on the road to complete reconstruction first. A lot of prejudices will have to be overcome, but in time it will be done."