What terrible deed could have been done by Earth's people to so bring the scorn of an entire race upon them? He had mulled over this night after night, but the answer was beyond his grasp. Those of the tribe had never again spoken of it after that one accusing moment in the case of their chief. He smiled wryly. Faring forth from Earth to solve the mystery of the destructive ray, he had run squarely into another, far greater puzzle. And when he found the answer to one, then he would surely solve the other; for he now felt certain that the two were in some way connected. The solution must come soon. He had spent much time reading the brochure given to him by President Mason, and in it Science Center had stated that the molecular patterns of metal could not long withstand the disrupting force. If surcease did not come shortly, there was no guessing what great catastrophe would befall Earth. Perhaps the entire sphere would disintegrate and fall away in space! Another riddle he had come across was that of the always-guarded cavern in the center of the city, about which all life in the community revolved. It seemed as if the Wronged Ones lived only to gather each night in that chamber and--worship? All that his guards would tell him about the place was that it was called the Cave of Talkers. Old One had warned him never to go near it, and the guards were careful to see that he heeded the admonition. With such things troubling his mind, he retired into the cave and stretched out on the miserable pile of furs. Soon he made out the glow of a tiny campfire outside, about which the guards huddled in the gathering gloom. Strange people were these. It was very seldom they smiled. The greater part of the time sadness was stamped deep in their features; sadness that spoke eloquently of a great tragedy that had come to them in the dim far past. Plague, perhaps? Gene frowned and rolled over on his side. So many questions; so few answers. He yawned sleepily and closed his eyes. Action. That was what he wanted; action.... Then his mind became as the darkness. He did not fare forth into the city next morning, but remained in the cave, putting into action a plan that had come to him during the night. The guards were not in evidence at the cavern's mouth, but he knew they were near at hand. The moment he came out, there they would be, intent on carrying out their sworn duty. Crouched in a deep recess of the chamber, he played his energy-ray on the wall before him, shielding his eyes from the bright glare with a gloved hand. He thanked his lucky stars that the simple-minded tribesmen had never thought to take the gun from him. With its aid he would at least be able to steal from the cave this night, all unknown to the guards, and make his way to the Cave of Talkers, there to learn what went on inside that mysterious chamber.