He was _Malya_, this officer; _Malya_ and warrior. His dark rough-hewn face stayed emotionless, immobile. But the black _Malya_ eyes ranged ceaselessly--bleak and watchful, never still. Ruthlessness was in them, and recklessness ... a spirit that seemed to mock Jarl Corvett and deny the blue Federation tunic that the dark aide wore. * * * * * Bitterly, Jarl looked down at his shackles. He thought of the _Malyas_ among his own crewmen; the wild, free-born raiders. How long would it be before they, too, wore the blue of the Federation? Or before they died.... Now the commissioner stirred. Chin sunk on chest, he mumbled something to his rock-faced lieutenant. The lean aide nodded briefly. Twisting in his seat, he pounded on the banquet table--first with his fist; then the butt of his heavy Talistan ray-gun. The sound rose even above the tumult and raucous voices, echoing and re-echoing through the great room that till short days before had been Wassreck's clandestine robotics laboratory. Slowly, the noise and voices died away. Chairs scraped. Heads turned. Eyes of _Fantay_ and of _fala_, Mercurian and Martian, _Chonya_, Thorian, _Pervod_, searched out the table where the aide and the high commissioner sat. Not quite steadily, then, the commissioner rose, a brimming _kabat_ goblet in his hand. His eyes had the glassy shine of bright new mirrors, and his tunic was rumpled, twisted awry. Swaying a little, the commissioner slapped loose-fingered at the blouse, as if to brush away the wrinkles. _Kabat_ slopped from the goblet and spilled over his hand. Blinking, he looked down at the spreading green stain. A foolish grin flickered fleetingly on his face. Ylana leaned towards him; spoke sharply. The commissioner's head twitched. He straightened, and his shoulders snapped back to a too-stiff 'attention'. Jerkily, he raised his glass. "A toast to our host, officers!" he cried in a drink-thickened voice. "A toast to _Ktar_ Wassreck--may he rot in hell!" Leaden silence came down on the room like a curtain. Furtive glances flicked out to the towering robots, shoulder to shoulder, that lined the walls. It made Jarl Corvett smile a little, the way the officers hung back. Did some recall H'sana? Were others on Pallas? Free or captive, _Ktar_ Wassreck still put cold fear in them! _Ktar_ Wassreck: Outlaw, scientist, scholar. Wassreck at Horla--gnome head tilted, eyes burning, laughing in the face of death. Wassreck ... and Sais.... Spasmodically, Jarl's fists clenched. His bruised head throbbed dully. "To our host!" the commissioner cried again, lurching forward. "To Wassreck--" The spell broke. The officers surged to their feet. Their shouts rang through the clamor: "To Wassreck--" "--May he rot in hell!" They drank it down. Fury swirled up in Jarl Corvett, hot and all consuming.