He frowned, said: "You crazy kid. You don't know what you're saying. I'm an outlaw. There's no way to prove Bemmelman murdered my father and mother. And even if there was, that wouldn't clear me. Every crime the Security Patrol hasn't been able to solve has been laid at my doorstep." "We could run away. We could go to Ganymede." He shook his head. "It wouldn't make any difference. As long as the Renegade is alive they'll hunt. They'd trail me, extradite me." "I don't care. I don't care. At least--" The brazen clamor of the alarm bells shrilled suddenly in their ears. Cosmo tore himself away, knelt beside the unconscious planter. He drew a dart gun from Bemmelman's pocket, said: "He's alive." "What are we going to do, Cosmo?" With a grunt, he hoisted the slack body over his shoulder. The alarm bells were pealing louder. "I saw a telo-antenna on the roof of the tower when we were in the court. I've a hunch the telo-projector is somewhere above us." Mia MacIver, clutching the tunic about her shoulder, asked: "But can't we run for it?" "Not while the force screen is operating." Bent under his heavy burden, Cosmo strode from the room, up the steps to the next level. Saying, "What's this?" he pressed the button of a sliding panel. The door slid back in its oiled grooves. "Whew!" he said. "My lady's chamber." Mia MacIver peered around him wide-eyed. It was a large room, octagon shaped and carpeted wall to wall with the shaggy gray fur of the Polar Aard. But the most startling feature was the mirrors. The walls were paneled solid in mirrors. It gave the impression that the room stretched on forever. "Well!" said Mia; "if this is the telecast operator's room, he's a voluptuous creature!" Cosmo snorted, stepped across the threshold. At once replicas of themselves flashed in all the mirrored chambers. "I feel wicked just being in a room like this," said Mia. Cosmo heard a click behind him, whirled around. The door through which they'd just passed was shut. In every direction, they were faced by an endless vista of mirrored chambers. Mia gasped. "I'm scared," she said. "Who isn't?" said Cosmo shortly and dropped Bemmelman to the floor with a thud. "What are you staring at?" He whipped around again. A second door in the mirrors stood ajar. Framed in the entrance was a magnificently beautiful girl in skimpy shorts and bra. She was the twin of the photograph below stairs. "Well, if it isn't my old friend, Sofi," said Cosmo without enthusiasm. There was no recognition in the Blue Venus' violet eyes. Her flawless pale-blue features revealed neither shock nor surprise. "That's Bemmelman." She indicated the planter. "Is he dead?" "No. Only unconscious." "Oh. That's too bad," she said in a calm manner, and swept up to the prostrate slave breeder, planted a kick in the seat of his pants. "There! I've never had the nerve to do that when he was conscious." Mia gasped. Cosmo said sharply: "Where's the telecast room?"