"How could I?" argued Disbro, in the charming fashion he could sometimes achieve. "I was only on probation. If I'd tried to help you then, we'd both be dead, instead of both on top of this Turkish Bath world. Sit down." They took stools on opposite sides of a heavy, wooden table. "Planter, how would you like to help me run Venus?" "You're going to get away from these Skygors?" Again Disbro waved the words away. "Why should I? I'll run them, too. Look, we landed safely, didn't we? Observations on Earth will show that, won't they?" "Right," agreed Planter, mystified. "There'll be more ships coming, to look for us and maybe set up a colony." "That's it. We'll ambush those ships." "Ambush?" repeated Planter sharply. "Losing your mind, Disbro?" "No. I'm only thinking for all of us. Ships will come, I say. Loaded with supplies, valuables all sorts of things. We can overwhelm them as they land. Some of their crews will join us--the others can be rubbed out. And the law can't touch us, Planter! Not for a minute!" "What are you driving at?" Planter demanded. "I'm the law," said Disbro, tapping his chest. "Just now I string with the Skygors. Later I may knock 'em off. But anyway, I'm the commander of the first expedition to land on Venus. I have a right to take possession, in my own name." He got up, his voice rising clear and proud. "Possession, like Columbus! Not of a continent--of a whole world!" * * * * * Planter, leaning forward on his stool, clutched the edge of the table so strongly that his knuckles whitened. "And what," he asked slowly and quietly, "do you want me to do?" "I'm coming to that," said Disbro, smiling with superior craftiness. "You're going to help me solidify these loud-mouthed Skygors." "They hold me for a slave," reminded Planter harshly, for he did not like the life as well as Glanfil and the others who toiled among the clockwork. But Disbro brushed the complaint aside. "That's because they don't know what I know. Your lady friends, I mean." Planter glanced up sharply. Disbro chuckled. "I talk a lot with these Skygors. Not bad fellows, if you muffle your ears. Anyway, they tell me about a herd of wild girls that bushwacks them constantly, and which they hope I'll find and destroy. Lately some of those girls have been scouting around, yelling for something. The Skygors haven't the best of English, and don't know what the words mean. But I do. Those girls are calling your name. David Planter." Mara had come back for him, then. She braved the terrors of the Skygor fortress, trying to get him back. Planter felt warmth around his heart. He faced Disbro and shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "You must be getting drunk with your Skygor friends."