The cruiser-transport lay without lights, and, resting as she was upon the ground, must have been entirely invisible to the oncoming flier, which all presently recognized as a small craft. It soon became evident that the stranger intended making a landing, for she was now spiraling slowly above them, dropping lower and lower in each graceful curve. “It is the _Thuria_,” whispered one of the Dusarian warriors. “I would know her in the blackness of the pits among ten thousand other craft.” “Right you are!” exclaimed Vas Kor, who had come on deck. And then he hailed: “Kaor, _Thuria_!” “Kaor!” came presently from above after a brief silence. Then: “What ship?” “Cruiser-transport Kalksus, Vas Kor of Dusar.” “Good!” came from above. “Is there safe landing alongside?” “Yes, close in to starboard. Wait, we will show our lights,” and a moment later the smaller craft settled close beside the Kalksus, and the lights of the latter were immediately extinguished once more. Several figures could be seen slipping over the side of the _Thuria_ and advancing toward the Kalksus. Ever suspicious, the Dusarians stood ready to receive the visitors as friends or foes as closer inspection might prove them. Carthoris stood quite near the rail, ready to take sides with the new-comers should chance have it that they were Heliumites playing a bold stroke of strategy upon this lone Dusarian ship. He had led like parties himself, and knew that such a contingency was quite possible. But the face of the first man to cross the rail undeceived him with a shock that was not at all unpleasurable—it was the face of Astok, Prince of Dusar. Scarce noticing the others upon the deck of the Kalksus, Astok strode forward to accept Vas Kor’s greeting, then he summoned the noble below. The warriors and officers returned to their sleeping silks and furs, and once more the deck was deserted except for the Dusarian warrior and Turjun, the panthan, who stood guard. The latter walked quietly to and fro. The former leaned across the rail, wishing for the hour that would bring him relief. He did not see his companion approach the lights of the cabin of Vas Kor. He did not see him stoop with ear close pressed to a tiny ventilator. “May the white apes take us all,” cried Astok ruefully, “if we are not in as ugly a snarl as you have ever seen! Nutus thinks that we have her in hiding far away from Dusar. He has bidden me bring her here.” He paused. No man should have heard from his lips the thing he was trying to tell. It should have been for ever the secret of Nutus and Astok, for upon it rested the safety of a throne. With that knowledge any man could wrest from the Jeddak of Dusar whatever he listed. But Astok was afraid, and he wanted from this older man the suggestion of an alternative. He went on.