He searched like a trapped creature, his whole being convulsed by the urgency of his will, while the tumult of the chase drew nearer and nearer with desperate urgency he explored the altar. "_Surely_," he reasoned, "_there must be some way the priests of the temple reach the nave!_" With frantic fingers he explored the gemmed surfaces, driving his mind to intuit the logical means of ingress not to speak _egress_. The chromatic shimmer of the gems blurred and merged together, formed curiously fantastic patterns, as his senses reeled through the after-effects of concussion. Imperceptibly almost, his probing fingers felt a slight projection on a flat surface. With a swift, jabbing motion he pushed in, and a circular section the size of a small coin slid to one side. There was a thin metallic ring beneath. He twisted it, and the whole section large enough for a stooping man to enter swung silently inward. He hesitated briefly gazing into the dark aperture. He could already hear clearly the shouted commands of his pursuers, as the troops deployed into the branching streets. He entered and the aperture closed. * * * * * When the golden _Felirene_ sprawled on the fabulous rug twitched its plumed tail and narrowed its lambent eyes to slits of emerald fire, Fermin, the Arch-Mutant did not move. He did not raise his head. The silver-grey eyes remained fixed, the slightly narrow skull immobile; outwardly, he seemed absorbed in the photo-plastic record. But the long, fragile finger of his hand pressed one of the gems that studded the milky whiteness of the Jadite chair on which he sat. Imperceptibly the jewel depressed. In the open hearth before him, a burning log of aromatic wood crackled and sent up a shower of sparks like shooting stars against the blue glory of the aquamarine glass columns that flanked it. "The slightest movement means death!" Fermin said softly, in a voice that was calm and poised and unhurried. "Even a spoken word might set _it_ off." In the brooding silence, the subdued hissing of the flames could be heard. "You see, intruder, you're standing in a radio beam that controls a Neuro-flash. The slightest movement disturbs the beam, which in turn releases the "flash." A most deplorable accident...." His voice trailed into a melodious undertone faintly etched with laughter. Then he rose and flung back the folds of his jewelled scarlet robe, bright as fresh blood, with a gesture of fastidious elegance. "Come, _Sappho_ ... let us welcome our guest!" he bade the now crouching, six-foot-long beast whose formidable claws were bared. "This is a memorable occurrence!" He moved with an effortless surety remarkable in its economy of movement; there was something oddly regal and imperturbable in his stride. Beside him, Sappho, the feral creature, paced with a fluid motion almost like flight, its golden fur gleaming with firelight reflections. Across an invisible, if lethal barrier they met.