Marley sipped the wine thoughtfully. To him it seemed completely insipid and without flavor. Subtlety again? He doubted it. "I mean to ask a favor of you, Tydore," he said, "And I but ponder how I should begin." "My house is yours," the Martian replied softly, "And all that it contains." Marley's eyes narrowed. Did he imagine the accent on the last phrase, or was it actually there? He decided to be very cautious. "I came here, as you know," he said, "To learn everything I might about your kind. As you know, we of Earth are a young race, still much in need of guidance and knowledge." "You have learned much," Tydore said. Marley's tone grew harder. "But not enough." Tydore's eyebrows arched delicately. "So? You have read my books, listened to my music. You have tasted the wines and eaten the fruits of Mars. You have seen the stars and the sand, the waters and the lichens. Have you not known my world?" "I want more," Marley said flatly. Tydore smiled. In that smile Marley saw a flash of more distilled venom and ancient hatred that he could have imagined existed. The utter virulence of it left him shaken and his illogical fear brought anger. He got to his feet, the tiny goblet in his hand. It was old and delicate, a tiny gem of carved jade and ivory. To one such as Tydore--priceless. Brutally, Marley crushed it to shards in his hands and dropped it to the flagstones. The fragments tinkled as they fell. "So it must always be," said Tydore in a soft voice. "I have not come here to listen to music, Tydore," Marley said, "Nor to read your books or to know your world. You have one thing that I want. You will give it to me, or I will take it from you." He ground his heel onto the remains of the goblet with a grating sound. "The weapon," the Martian said, "You want the weapon. You may have it. You need not have broken my goblet...." Marley was almost sorry that he had won so easily. He suddenly wanted to crush the old Martian as he had crushed the goblet. In both there was a quality that eluded him, and it was maddening. Tydore handed him the key. "Come, we will get it together." Marley followed him cautiously, alert for any trickery. Presently they stood before the case and Marley unlocked it, reaching greedily for the polished stock. He cradled the gun in his arms lovingly, savoring triumph. With this in his hands, he could defy a world. "There is no other like it, nor any but I to make one," Tydore said with a strange smile. "Why did you make it?" asked Marley. "I made it for you." [Illustration: "_I made it for you...._"] Marley laughed aloud. It was an alien sound in the thin, cold air of the tower. "You're a liar, Tydore. You built this weapon long before I ever left Earth and you know it."