Great comets! How did such a mass of intricate machinery get here, in this underground vault, on a world where metal was not known? And what was its purpose? A narrow ledge ran around the chamber's walls, and Gene moved along this to a spot where he could look down on the scene without risk of being seen. Now and again the droning supplication halted, and during these pauses Old One arose and moved about the machines. In his hand he carried a small skin sack. This he tilted over certain parts of the whirring, pounding colossi, and from it poured a thin trickle of what could be nothing but oil. This ceremony performed, Old One moved back, then once more the gathered throng took up the melancholy strain of the interrupted invocation. Above all, the machines hummed and sang with unbelievable power; deathless power. Yet, it seemed the prolonged roar faltered now and then; stopped for the barest fraction of an instant. At such times, the multitude groaned; then prayed all the more fervently. * * * * * Gene's mind was in tumult. This world was so unlike Earth: it did not revolve on its axis, the false night of the valley was caused by dense clouds of dust or some other substance which, carried by the wind, passed over in irregular periods; thus one day would be longer or shorter than another. He doubted that a thorough search of the sphere would turn up enough metal to be worth the hunting, yet here were two giant machines, idols of a primitive people who could not conceivably grasp the mechanics involved. What a world! A world of riddles, Gene thought absently. Then, a wild shout stabbed through his thoughts and he jerked startledly, almost losing his foothold on the treacherous ledge. The urgent cry came again, nearer the cave now, and with it a frightful uproar that raised the short hairs on the nape of Gene's neck. He could make out the yell now: "Out! Out! The Beast People come!" The Wronged Ones heard also, and poured up the stairs with cries of wrath at thus having their ritual broken short, snatching up spears from the floor as they went. Gene hung back until the last of them had passed outside, then he, too, flung himself through the cave mouth. His hand clutched the deadly energy-ray, finger ready on the trigger to unloose a barrage of hissing death on the repulsive creatures assailing the city. He did owe the Wronged Ones something for saving his life, even though they had not treated him as nicely as they might have.