The view in the crystal was another familiar one when Ianito made a quick readjustment: the throne room in the palace of the Zara! The Dictator snorted when he saw that Clyone was reclining lazily on her golden couch, submitting graciously to the ministrations of her handmaidens. "Faithless creature!" he snarled. "Harlot! Parricide! But at last Ianito will have his revenge." The hate in his voice and in those terrible glass-hard eyes was devastating in its intensity: implacable, relentless. Yet Blaine could not down the exultant feeling that came to him when he saw that this monster could suffer, too. "What's the matter?" he sneered. "Did she throw you down?" He could have bitten off his tongue as he spoke. Ulana gasped. And if Ianito had been in a rage before he was a madman now. Despite his contempt of the misshapen creature, Blaine quailed before the murderous glare that answered his rash words. But the Dictator was master of himself, at that; his lips tightened in a thin line and he held his peace. He actually smiled after a moment, the devil, a smile, though, of evil triumph. He turned once more to the crystal and switched on the sound mechanism. "Clyone," he called, in velvety voice; "it is Ianito." She looked up, startled, her chalky face gone whiter still. Her jeweled fingers fluttered to the smooth throat. "I hear you," she replied shakily. "What do you wish of me." "Nothing much--this time. I have visitors who request an audience with you, oh Clyone. Can you see them at once?" "Who--who are they?" Her eyes widened at his insinuating tone. "An Earth man--Carson--and the Rulan maiden who is to become his mate." Ianito chuckled evilly as he watched her expression. "Carson?" she whispered, her wild eyes softening, "He--he lives?" Black hatred replaced the wondering joy that had glowed in her face. She was thinking of the statement regarding the Rulan maiden. "Why, yes," she snapped, suddenly very much alert; "I can see them. Send them immediately." The Dictator chortled as he switched off the power. Dantor paled and looked away. So this was his scheme! He was sending Ulana to certain death at the hands of the leopard woman. Blaine bit his lips until they bled. If only he had one of their ray pistols again. If he had-- * * * * * Ianito was at his side, whispering. But he couldn't see him; the devil had donned one of Dantor's invisible cloaks. Something hard pressed deep into his ribs. "I shall be with you," the Dictator told him, "but she will not know. It is necessary, of course, that I watch over you in order that your deportment be suitable to the occasion. The death ray of Antrid is ready in my hands. Proceed, you and the Rulan maid, and see to it that you give her every attention while in the Zara's presence." Dantor interposed an objection, "But, Ianito, you promised to spare them. I learned to love these two and want no harm to come their way."