Without moving his physical body his presence was in effect transported wherever throughout the city he wished to be. A man of tremendous concentration, to handle but one thing at a time; with all the power of his brain to give instant decision, and then to forget it utterly. I found him a rather small man; smooth-shaven; grey-haired; a grave face and demeanor, with dark eyes solemn with thought, yet twinkling often when he spoke. A man of flabby muscles and gentle voice; seemingly unforceful, and with a personality likable, but hardly dominating. Instinctively I found myself comparing him to Tarrano. Tarrano's strong, wiry body. The flash of his eye; his inscrutability, always suggesting menace; the power, the genius of his personality--the force radiating from him which no one could mistake. His intellectual power--his concentration--certainly the equal of this little leader of the _Rhaals_. Tarrano the Conqueror! Tarrano--man of destiny--risen from nothing and by the sheer genius of his will throwing three worlds into chaos, at one stage combining two worlds into his self-created Empire; and menacing the third. Surely Tarrano was a greater man than this Rhaalton. I knew it; much as I hated Tarrano I was forced to admit it. Yet as I stood there acknowledging the soft-spoken greeting of Rhaalton, I had the swift premonition that Tarrano was going down into defeat. And that this little man, without moving from his desk or raising his voice, would be the main factor in bringing it about. And I wondered why such a thing could be. I know why now. Tarrano, with all his genius, lacked just one quality which this little man had in abundance. The milk of human kindness--humanity--a radiating force the essence of which paradoxically was the unforceful gentleness of him. The Almighty--as we each of us in our hearts must envisage our God--is just, but gentle, humane in His justness. And with all the genius in the universe--the war-like power--the weapons--the cohorts--all the wonderful armament of war--you cannot transgress the Will of the Almighty. Against all human logic of what should be victory--you will meet defeat.... The thoughts fled through my mind and vanished into the realities of the present. Rhaalton was saying: "We will be ready within another time of sleep. Jac Hallen, you wish, I suppose, to go out with our forces?" "Oh yes," I said. He smiled. "The eagerness of youth for danger! And yet is very necessary--very laudable--" He passed a hand across his forehead with a weary gesture--a gesture which seemed to me despondent. Could this be our vaunted leader? My heart sank. He added abruptly: "We shall conquer this Tarrano--but at what cost!" His smile was wistful. "We must choose the lesser evil."