Frederix stood frozen in his tracks, his smile gone now. He'd heard of automatic robots before, guarding bleak, desolate outposts in the still watches of extra-terrestrial nights whose weapons would be automatically discharged should anything change the visual pattern on their photocells during or after the warning. The suspense was maddening. A radio transmitter and receiver stood scant feet away, and he dared not move to reach them--the means of calling Kaa, of sending angry ships swarming at Calidao, for perhaps (a _perhaps_ that was maddening in its import)--perhaps Onupari had not swept into the void with his cargo of death. Andres had spoken of some intelligence manifest in the robot's actions. Might it then understand if he spoke to it? "I am Hunter Frederix, Del Andres' friend," he said softly, scarcely moving his lips. The robot remained motionless, irresponsive. Was it merely the sparking of relays or had he described a gleam of something else in those mechanical eyes? He talked on, explaining the entire situation. Abruptly, amazingly, the automaton sheathed its weapons. Frederix turned towards the radio, astounded by what he had seen, striving to give the exhibition of understanding some explanation which did not admit of a created mentality; then, without, he heard the jetting of a landing gyrotomic. * * * * * A warm, excited cry cut the silence of the old mansion: "Hunt! I thought you'd come here! Oh, I knew Dave was wrong!" Del Andres rushed into the room, his dark face agleam, his strong arms outstretched in welcome greeting. Frederix caught his hands, crushed them and said nothing. "We captured a Vron, learned that they have sent an Armada--" "I know," Frederix said simply. "Oh, I knew they'd come!" Andres raced on. "I warned the Legion years ago; but they knew more than I who lived with the Vrons at Centauri, who--well, it doesn't matter! What matters is that I know them for what they are: cruel, domineering, the greatest actors in the universe; and when they want something--power or love or gold, it doesn't matter which for their fancies change in a moment--nothing will stop their mad rush towards that goal--" Suddenly he was staring into the shadowed room whence he had come and there was bitterness in his dark eyes--the bitterness of cruel and undimmed memories. "But they must be stopped!" Frederix cried. "We'll stop them!" whispered Andres, his strong, white teeth bared almost wolfishly. "The Legion can't get back in time; but we've worlds to defend, Hunt, and the courage to defend them. But why did Dave Cravens name you traitor?" He could talk now. He could empty his bursting heart. Swiftly he recounted everything from those dangerous moments in Certagarni to the present.