"Because of the primitives, you mean? Because of the Federation ban, the deserts--?" Sais laughed aloud, and there was scorn and fury in it. "Yes, Jarl Corvett, it's utter madness! That's why my father went in secret, leaving you behind to call him traitor! He wanted no other to die with him on such a hopeless quest. So he sent his message to _rey_ Gundre, wagered his own life on the one slim, desperate chance that he could bring destruction to the Federation!" The fears, the doubts ... they all were dying. And as they died, a gnawing sickness grew in Jarl Corvett. Of a sudden he was himself traitor, betrayer, for his very doubting. "But why--?" he whispered. "Why did he go, Sais? What secret could be greater than the one he gave to Gundre?" Sais laughed again, more softly. Once more, she came close to him, as if unwilling, even here, to speak of this thing above a breathless murmur. "The robots, Jarl; the robots!" He stared. "The robots--?" "Yes!" Now her voice shook with excitement. "Jarl, they were no idle fancy, no toys brought to being out of an old man's dreams. They were models of warriors--the great, inanimate metal warriors of that alien race from beyond the stars. He built them from plans in the books he found in the wrecked ship." * * * * * For Jarl, it was as if a curtain had suddenly been pulled aside. His mind flashed back to Vesta, to Wassreck's workshop ... back to the great hall's echoing vastness, and the towering metal monsters that, shoulder to shoulder, lined its walls. Sais still was speaking: "He knew that the outlaw worlds were doomed, Jarl. The Federation was too strong. The projector--it was only another weapon. For victory, the raider fleet needed something more." Jarl did not speak. She said: "The metal warriors were to be that 'something more'. Not models, such as he constructed, but giants, monsters--huge creatures, indestructible, so mighty that they could break space-ships in their hands." The woman's voice rose; took on a richer timbre. "Think of it, Jarl Corvett! Think of an army of those awful warriors, each alone strong enough to desolate a planet! What would power like that mean to the outlaw worlds--?" She broke off, shaking. With an oath, Jarl pulled her to him; held her. "But he failed, Jarl...." Sais' words came dull and muffled. "He could not give them life." "You mean--?" "The control was a mystery he could not master. The books told nothing of its workings." "So now he would go to Womar...." "Yes. There was a chance, he thought, that he might find the secret there, where the other alien ship had fallen. He had a theory that the primitives themselves were decadent descendants of the master race."