"The hour for revolt was struck. Long was the warfare, and bloody. But ultimately our people were triumphant. And in judicial council, when victory had been won, it was decided that never again would Gog be granted an opportunity to threaten cosmic peace with its lust for power. And since the only way to cure a disease is by ruthlessly crushing out its roots, a gigantic cosmic ray gun was built. This was turned upon Gog--" "And Gog," Dr. Bryant took up the tale, from the depths of his scientific wisdom supplying the details as accurately as if he had been eye witness, "dwindling, crumbled into ruins beneath the cannon's radiation. But your vengeance did not stop there. You continued to play the gun upon the whole of Sol's system. Now, not only one world but an entire universe had been contracted well-nigh to the breaking point. Shortly our parent star itself will become too densely packed to supply light, and then--" "Then," proclaimed Borisu stridently, "our planet, called 'Magog' because it is 'the enemy of Gog', will reign triumphant throughout not only ours but through _every_ universe." Gary risked a swift glance at Warren. The skipper had not been idle. Moving a hair's breadth at a time he had finally gained the wall. Now a single motion of his hand would snap open the switch. "But, Borisu," demanded Gary. "Are not your people satisfied? You have destroyed your real enemy. Must you take vengeance on the children of the other planets which never harmed you? On the descendants thousands of years removed of those with whom you once struggled?" "That," said Borisu, "does not matter. Our vengeance will not be complete until the last despised Solarian is destroyed. Only then--_Stop!_ I warned you--" * * * * * His ray pistol, whirling to bear upon Warren, spat viciously. Its flame cracked across the turret to blast at the spot where Hugh but a moment before had stood. But its lethal tongue barely licked Warren's uniform. With a blinding movement the captain had smashed open the audio key, bawled, _Engine room! Hypos on, quickly!_ Then no more, for a second flare of the pistol dropped him, choking, to the floor. Its searing blast kindled the serge of his uniform. Nora Powell screamed and impetuously lunged forward to beat at the burning cloth with bare hands. A familiar thin, high, whining shuddered through the ship, and from the engine room below came the voice of Bud Howard demanding, "_Why, Skipper? I thought you told us not to--_" Then the Magogean _Kraedar_ wheeled, his face livid. "Enough," he rasped. "It will do you no good, Miss Powell, to extinguish that little burning. In a moment it and you and _all_ of us will merge in a mightier flame ... Magog's blazing star!" He laughed madly as his fist smashed down upon the crimson stud! CHAPTER XIV Escape