Kac rose, nodding gravely. "Thus was it foretold. Time has erased all memory of the evil deed of your race. But our remembrance of it is as a flame that grows not weaker, but stronger, with the years. Come now, Gene Drummond, and learn of your sin." Gene followed the tall barbarian from the cavern, excited and more than a little apprehensive. As they walked, he noted that many warriors were on guard throughout the community. That was good. Looking up, he noticed for the first time that a naked, black mountain reared into the sky but a half-mile or so back from the valley wall wherein the caves were situated. That, too, was good. The Beast People would be forced to come at them from the fore. The trail led to the Cave of Talkers. Down the broad steps, across the flat stone floor, they went wordless and in awe. The giant machines loomed before them, throbbing and pounding with such a clamor as to bring Gene's hands to his ears. He soon grew accustomed to the noise, however, and went on with Kac to a small niche carved in a wall of the chamber. A vault rested in the recess, and from it Kac took a long metal tube; from this, a musty skin scroll. The towering tribesman turned and looked deep into Gene's eyes. "Now," he said, "now shall I read to you from this ancient record, written by those long dead for all Wronged Ones to study and learn therefrom of the terrible injustice done to their ancestors. It is not pleasant, Gene. Will you hear it?" The biologist nodded, a tight feeling around his heart. What unhappy, haunting knowledge was about to come to his mind? "It is short," Kac murmured. "Those who wrote it knew so little of what actually happened. Too, the language in which it is written is all but lost to us. But it is my fancy that when you have hearkened to these few words, little space will remain in your mind for other thoughts." "Go ahead, read it," Gene said hoarsely. "I don't run from the truth, even though it may cut to the quick." * * * * * Kac began; reading swiftly, yet comprehensively: "Long were we, the Wronged Ones, happy on our beautiful world. Like a green jewel in space it was; a treasure lost from the bosom of the Mother Sun in some careless moment. "True it is that we were of simple minds; even so, great things were destined for our race. As evolution worked its miracles the ignorance that was born with us dropped away, and in its place came a high order of intelligence. "We built, tilled the soil, and forever sought new knowledge to enrich our hungry minds. Our civilization was rising, forging ahead. The fertile soil gave abundantly of its treasure; power for our machines came from the Mother Sun itself. "Then, disaster fell upon our world. Through space, with a far greater speed than light, stabbed an insidious ray--stealing our minds, our egos. Our bodies remained, but the egos that controlled them were drained away and hurled through the void.