Strange thoughts passed through his brain. Why did not Meevo, schooled in slaughter, slay him, too? But Meevo merely motioned him to enter the room; he did so, then the frail, haughty Vron said slowly, relishing the situation with an alien humor which the other could not understand: "You've about fifteen minutes, Frederix. Fifteen minutes to realize the fact that you'll be blown to bits. When the station goes, Certagarni will revolt; in a few weeks, as the other stations go, Mars will fall completely into chaos. "A few months and Onupari shall have lain waste the Earth stations. It's too bad you must miss it all; but you must! So I'm locking you in here where you can view the glorious beginning. This room has been the _sanctum sanctorum_ of these two dead gentlemen; I've no doubt you'll be unable to solve the diallock's combination. It will give you something to pass the moments away with. So, goodbye, Earthman. May your ancestors welcome you with wine and tribulation!" With that alien idiom uttered, the Vron stepped outside. The great durite door crashed shut, the diallock whirled. A moment later a small gyrotomic blasted into the night sky and moved swiftly into the northeast towards distant Calidao. * * * * * Frederix heard the purring of the electric clock, turned his gaze towards it, and the second hand going 'round, swiftly. He tried the door, turned back into the room. Glassite-durite walls faced him, transparent but comprised of the hardest alloy in the system. Flicking on a desk lamp, he rummaged around the room. No weapons, no tools.... And the minutes were fleeing--ten minutes more--nine! And then his eyes fell on a portable cathode ray oscillograph, and inspiration lighted up his rugged, bearded face! The door was locked by a high frequency radio wave diallock, the most delicate and most burglar proof lock in the system. Its shielded exterior made it invulnerable to the most advanced instruments of a modern Raffles; but its unshielded inner side-- Quickly he plugged in the oscillograph on A.C., brought it to the door, adjusted the wires from the jack-top binding posts to the terminal of the lock, stepped up the anode voltage, cut in the sweep circuit and paused for a long moment to still the quivering of his hand as he reached for the diallock. His eyes were glued to the greenish fluorescence of the slow-screen tube as he started twirling the combination. Waves pulsed evenly across the grid. And then they jerked almost unnoticeably; a wave-plate had fallen into position! He changed the diallock's direction back slowly. Another variance in the oscillation. Back, again! The clock purring, purring, and somewhere another clock ticking the doom of the station away.