"Well," said Kunklin, speaking cheerfully in Galactic, "it's been fun." He threw the anti-gravity to full power, waited till he could feel that the lift would no longer increase. It was not enough to get him off the ground, but he now weighed next to nothing. He crouched, then leaped for the haze above. He shot up like a rocket, went through the circle and disappeared. A moment later Prule followed him. As he sailed up through the haze the ship became immediately visible above, he reached out and caught on to a rung of the ladder below Kunklin. Thankfully, wearily, not bothering to look down at the stunned, open-mouthed crowd which he could see below him but which could no longer see him, he followed Kunklin up into the ship. Kunklin did not wait at the airlock, he ran quickly away. Prule, puffing, paused to look down at last on the crowd below. Their ascent had been a success. The crowd was beginning to applaud. Prule closed the airlock and the invisible, untouchable ship lifted. He went to join Kunklin. The big Galactic was bent over the controls, guiding the ship not upward--as Prule had thought--but horizontally down the length of the wide street. "Eh?" said Prule. "Got to get a live Faktor," Kunklin said anxiously, his eyes glued to the viewscreen. "We've lost the Earthman. He could be anywhere now, and we can't help him. He may be headed for the Faktor's main base. If so he will be killed. We've got to get to the base first." Prule pursed his lips. "If he dies on our account, just because of your foolish idea to use him--" "I know," Kunklin cut in. "So we need a Faktor to tell us where the base is. They're probably all over this city. I think I even saw one in the crowd." He stopped. "That's another thing," he said unhappily, "if there were Faktors in the crowd, they'll know a Galactic ship is here." Prule grunted, peered down at the left side of the screen. "Look, isn't that one?" He indicated a small, furtive-looking man who was walking swiftly away from the area they had just left. Kunklin adjusted for a close view. "Yep." He moved to the instrument panel, worked carefully at a traversing mechanism. "Get down to the airlock. We'll suck him up." "He'll die of fright," Prule predicted. "They always do." Kunklin shrugged. "We have to try. Maybe this will be a strong one." "Let's hope so." Prule readied himself at the open airlock. Kunklin threw a switch, there was a deep, subtle hum, and a magnetic beam dosed down on the man below. He flipped straight up toward the ship, like a hooked minnow. But he was not one of the stronger Faktors. He was dead before he reached the door. * * * * * In the late afternoon, when the wind had died and the day was quiet, the door opened. The same two men--she had begun to be able to tell them apart--came in and, this time, bowed. Ivy yawned, rose up on an elbow and blinked her eyes. The two men, surprised, stared at her.