"No," said Jupiter. "No, I don't think it's a trick." But he knew that it would be impossible to explain his feelings either to the cave girl or the Nehogan general. Such sentimentality was foreign to their natures. If he attempted to dissuade them from their purpose, they would go ahead in spite of him. And he couldn't blame them. He said: "We'll attack at sunup." "But why wait until then?" Lete demanded hotly, "When the Anolyn will be expecting us?" "To give me time to get inside and open the gate," he told her. "You can get inside the city?" the Nehogan general asked incredulously. "Undetected?" "I think so. It's worth a try." "Yes," said the general grimly, "if you can get the gate open it may mean the difference between victory and defeat. When will you start?" Jupiter was staring at the spires and steeples of the city by the _Dra Dur_, bathed in the angry orange rays of the setting sun. "One hour after dark," he said. IX Jupiter dismounted the needle ray. It never had been intended to serve as a hand weapon. It was like carrying a fifty millimeter anti-aircraft gun, but on this planet of mild gravity he was able to handle it well enough. He encased it carefully in waterproof wrappings. Then he broke out a spacesuit. Sun up. The order was to attack at sun up! It didn't give him much time. The Yogolians knew nothing about reducing a fortified city, but they had cut timbers for scaling ladders. The cavemen could run up them like monkeys. They should carry the walls by sheer numbers. Lete and the Nehogan general watched him curiously as he donned the spacesuit. He picked up the unwieldy gun, started through the soft black night for the city. They went along with him discussing their plans. He answered in grunts, his voice harshly metallic coming through the diaphragm. At the front lines he left them behind and went on alone across the level plain like a robot in the cumbersome suit. The impulse to run was almost uncontrollable. Suppose the Anolyn were suspicious. They might have been bluffing, Tabak and Reiloc might already be dead. He began to sweat. He plodded on steadily through soft, plowed land. He reached a pasture and a herd of the long-tailed Begans ran up sniffing him curiously. The black, hairy men followed him, grunting, among themselves, to the opposite fence where they stopped. They had been trained not to climb fences. All at once he realized that he had come to the beach. The walls of the city loomed darkly massive above him. Stars twinkled in the velvet sky. He waded out into the water. The stars vanished as the _Dra Dur_ closed above his helmet. He snapped on his torch. The light drove a lance through water ahead, revealing the sandy bottom, strange submarine creatures. He struggled on and on, the pitch of the sea floor becoming steeper. It was like a fairyland of grottoes and trailing seaweed. Then the rays from his torch struck the gaping mouth of a cave.