Already amidst the perfect glamour, the seductive illusions of the Paradisiac, forces were gathering that no Ganymedean art could dispel, and which were far from being illusory. Neighboring platforms had drawn increasingly near; implacable eyes, devoid of languor or of drugs, gazed with cold intensity at the frost-trellised bower and its solitary occupant. The lighting effects of the Paradisiac had changed, dimmed to an idyllic, translucent twilight, while the music sank to undulations of the B flat tonality that were magical--plucking at the emotions with unerring skill. A draft of fragrance--the heady _florestan_ of Ganymede--made Julian turn his head. Up the brief stairs of his platform a woman was ascending calmly. Julian rose, a tiny frown between his eyes. He had not sent for a companion; then he remembered his brief flash of passion on the conveyor and wondered with startled dismay if these Ganymedeans went so far as to read the most intimate thoughts of their guests! But no, it could not be. He shot a clear violet glance of keen appraisal at the girl. She was a _true_ Mutant. Her utter refinement of features, the classical loveliness stamped with intolerable pride were beyond doubt Ganymedean, as was the hair, almost crystalline, that fell in shining waves to her shoulders. The eyes, an enchanting shade of silvered blue, were smiling with a secret amusement. "Shall one intrude?" The ghost of a smile parted her lips as she sat down, her priceless gown sweeping the platform with the crystal sheen of water. She threw back a shawl as sheer and fantastic as the Veil of Tanit must have been, with a gesture that only a very beautiful woman can achieve. "Enchanted," Julian answered conventionally, but entirely without warmth. He offered her a drink. Maliciously he suggested _Venusin_, certain it would be refused. * * * * * The girl let her glance rove over the wondrous spectacle on the stage that had emerged from the floor in the center of the hall, and, her smile was an adventure as she replied: "Venusin ... weaver of chimeras ... like all this," she waved an alabaster hand, "illusion ... dreams. But even our greatest dreams _betrays_ us sometimes. Yes, let it be Venusin!" Julian wondered, straining all his faculties, whether the veiled warning were a prophecy of things to come, or the ironical skating on thin ice of the enemy itself! And was aware that part of his mind kept harping on the loveliness of this cryptic stranger. _What was her purpose? Had she penetrated his disguise? Was she there to make sure that under the miracle of art there was some one far more dangerous than a dissipated Martian fop?_ His answer came from her slender, fragile hands. _They were twining and untwining like lilies bending before the wind!_