It was as easy as that. He had not thought it would be easy, but it was. After all, he thought, men seldom guard against the impossible. Phobos had gone on its careening flight around Mars, and Deimos was too low to give much light. Now carrying the unconscious Fand, now dragging her across the open spaces, Winters made his way back to the amphitheatre. In and across the tiered seats to the wall. It was a twenty-foot drop, but he made it as easy as he could on her. He didn't want her dead. Then he slid over himself, hung briefly by his fingertips, and fell into cushioning brush. When he got his breath back he made sure that Fand was not hurt. Then he carried her swiftly into the shelter of the unholy garden. Remembering a particularly dense patch of shrubbery near the central clearing, he made for it and crept thankfully into concealment with the heir of all the Kings of Valkis. Then he waited. * * * * * Her eyes were looking up at him in the dim light, bitter gold above the gag of scarlet silk. "Yes," he said, "you're here, in the garden of Shanga. I brought you here. We have a bargain to talk about, Fand." He undid the gag, keeping his hand close over her mouth lest she should cry out. She said, "There will be no bargain between us, Earthman." "Your life, Fand. Your life for mine, and Jill's, and the others here who can still be saved. Destroy the prisms, stop this madness, and you can live to be as old and crazy as your mother." There was no fear in her. Unbending pride, and hatred, but no fear. She laughed. He put his hand on her throat, his fingers reaching iron-strong around her neck. "Slim," he said. "Soft, and tender. It would snap so easily." "Break it, then. Shanga will go on without me. Kor Hal will take over. And you, Burk Winters--you can't escape." Her teeth showed white in a taunting smile. "You'll run with the beasts. No man can break free from Shanga." Winters nodded. "I know that," he said quietly. "Therefore I must destroy Shanga before it destroys me." She looked at him, naked and unarmed, crouching in the brush. Once more, she laughed. He shrugged. "Perhaps it is impossible. I won't know that until it's too late, anyway. It isn't really me I'm worried about, Fand. I could be perfectly happy running on all fours through your garden. Probably I would be perfectly happy hissing and wallowing in the lake. Now the idea sickens me, but after a touch of Shanga it would be all right. No. It isn't me that matters, nor even Jill." "What, then?" "Earth has its pride, too," he told her gravely. "It's a younger and cruder pride than yours. It can become pretty ruthless and obnoxious at times, I'll admit. But on the whole, Earth is a good planet, and her people are good people, and she's done more to advance the Solar System than all the other worlds put together. As an Earthman, I don't like to see my world disgraced."