The glasses were drained and placed again on the table. "Watch carefully," Heidel said and lifted the pistol. He aimed at the first candle. The trigger was taut against his finger, the explosion loud in the room. "One," said Heidel. He aimed again. The explosion. "Two," he said. "Rather good, eh?" "Oh, yes," Sadler said. "Quite," said Forbes. "Again," said Heidel. A third shot echoed. "Now," he said, pointing the muzzle at the last candle. "I would say this is it, wouldn't you, gentlemen? And as soon as this one goes, I'm afraid one of us is going to find a bullet right between his goddam sparkling eyes. Are you ready?" He squinted one eye and looked down the sights. He squeezed the trigger, the room echoed and there was blackness. Heidel held his pistol poised over the table. Silence. "Well," said Forbes finally. "There you have it. Surprise, what?" Heidel balanced the pistol, feeling his palm go suddenly moist against the black grip, and he looked around at the five pairs of glowing eyes. "Bit of a shock, I should imagine," Forbes said. "Discovering all of us, as it were." Heidel licked his lips. "How? _How_ could you do this?" Forbes remained motionless. "Simple as one, you know. Put men on rockets going back to Earth in place of returning colonists. Study. Observe. Learn. Shift a record here and there. Forge, change pictures, all that sort of thing. Poor contact between here and Earth, you know. Not too difficult." "I'll get one of you," Heidel said, still balancing his pistol tightly. "Well, possibly," Forbes said. "But no more than one. You have three guns pointed at you. We can see you perfectly, you know, as though it were broad daylight. One shiver of that pistol, and you're dead." "Why have you done this?" Heidel said suddenly. "_Why?_ Everything that was done was for the Martian. We tried to give you freedom and culture, the benefit of our knowledge...." "We didn't like your wrestlers," Forbes said. Heidel's nostrils twitched, and suddenly he swung the pistol. There was a crashing explosion and then silence. "Good," said Forbes. "I don't think he got the last one fired." "You're all right then?" asked Meehan, putting his gun on the table. "Oh, quite! Rather dramatic altogether, eh?" "Nerve tingling," Locke agreed. Forbes turned in his chair and called, "Oh, Kessit!" The butler opened the door to the darkened room, hesitated, and reached for the light switch. "No, no," Forbes said, smiling. "Never mind that. Come over here, will you please?" The butler crossed the room slowly. "It's all right," Forbes said. "The president will notice nothing whatever, Kessit. Would you mind pouring us all another glass of wine? I'm frightfully crazy about that port, eh?" There was a murmur of agreeing voices. The butler lifted the silver decanter and filled glasses, moving easily and surely in the darkness. "Cheers," said Forbes. "Cheers," said the others, over the clink of glasses. THE END Transcriber's Note: