* * * * * The boy he remembered was indeed now a man. Matching the six-foot Ross in height, he stood straight and slender, carrying easily the weight of the ray-rifle slung on his shoulder, and the poison-pistol at his belt. He smiled briefly at the Earth-man's sally, then sobered at once. "You come at a critical time," he murmured, pitching his voice so that his half-dozen followers could not hear. "The Moon People are divided by revolt, and the fate of the Kingdom is not easy to predict." He caught sight of Moore. "Ah, my friend Harrell Moore!" His hand went out in a warm clasp. "Hi, Artana," returned the navigator awkwardly. "You're looking great. What's the trouble? I'll guess it's Horta." "Softly!" Uneasily the Lord of the Peaks glanced about him. "Let us go to the Peak Chamber, where we may speak at ease." He led the way from the platform, halting only to allow Ross to relay an order for his six ships to land. Through a winding subterranean corridor they hastened to the council room of the Peak, which marked the administrative center of one of Artana's provinces. Once inside the great room, Artana led them to low divans of stone, covered and made comfortable with soft cellulose-like stuff that rustled as they moved. He gave them the news bluntly, without preamble. "Horta has seized power in two-thirds of the Kingdom," he cried, his voice breaking with emotion. "King Magnus was killed, perhaps not by Horta's orders--but who else would have plotted it? The assassination seemed to be the signal for an uprising--and Horta issued a proclamation, as one of the three regents, declaring that he would act to preserve order in the Caverns and the land beyond where the Crater folk live. Three of the Peaks were overrun, and the signal systems were all destroyed. Here at Peak Four, my soldiers were ready, and all the rebels were slain." "Queen Boada--and the Princess Illeria?" asked Ross. "They are safe." Artana twisted on his couch in his distress. "They were at Peak Five when the attacks were made, and are coming here, escorted by a strong body of my troops. I expect them soon. But you, my friends? How can I receive you, when my people are embroiled in civil war--for that is what it is?" Ross waved his hand deprecatingly. "Don't worry about us, Artana. Of course, we can't take sides here. We can help to preserve the Regency, since the Truce demands it. But there's one thing I'd like to ask." "Of course, my friend." "Have you heard of trouble on the Earth?" Artana looked up quickly. "We have had no word." "Or--well, trouble in the sky?" Artana shook his head, puzzled. Ross answered his unspoken question. "One of our ships was destroyed on our flight from the Earth. And I don't think it was an accident." "A rocket ship?" Artana sat up. Then his eyes flashed. "Horta?" he murmured, as if asking himself a question. Moore leaned forward. "Has Horta been up to anything in the ray business?" he asked eagerly.