Nuala went by him as he stood in the doorway. She raced to banks of buttons spread across the western wall of the room. Her fingers slammed down, played like the digits of a Venusian pianist across the complicated keyboard. She was just in time. The floor shuddered under their feet as the tower rocked. But the floor held. And the tower stood. Nuala threw back her head, flung wild and eerie laughter at the flat ceiling. "By Grock, I've won! I've _won_!" She put trembling fingers to her face, clawed at it, tearing strips of flesh away. Travis opened his mouth, closed it. Bit by bit, she pulled the _celluvalin_ loose and cast it from her. She swung about, faced Travis. Once more her face was lovely, mouth warm and kissable. "You helped me, Earth-thing. You helped me get here! I'll reward you for that!" She lifted her arms, did a girlish pirouette. Travis growled, "What about Rudra?" She laughed. It was like tuned glass tinkling. "Rudra himself discovered the warp-sheath. I've pulled this tower into another dimension. He can't harm us because he can't find us! Oh, Travis, my dear...." Her hands touched his nose and mouth. Gently she removed the _celluvalin_, cleansed his cheeks until he stood tan and grim-lipped, the Clark Travis she first had seen in the pink barrier outside the calyx chamber. "Now, Clark Travis ... you may kiss me!" He stretched out his arms, caught her warm and soft against him, bent his mouth-- "Charming," sneered a cold voice. "Of the _kovokodans_, this I would have expected, but you two are from a higher race--" * * * * * He stood in the center of the room, tall and lean; his height and spareness emphasized by the black cloak he pulled about him as though against the cold. His thin lips sneered. The narrow brows above black eyes were upraised to form two living insults. Nuala whimpered. She thrust a hand to her mouth. "Rudra!" The dark man moved forward. Now Travis could see a circlet of tiny stars, revolving and shimmering, coruscating light, that swung like a fallen halo about his head. As the man went, so went the ever-turning stars. "You know me? But you must, to be so familiar with my sciences. I do not know ... you. Or do I?" The black eyes touched Travis, slid away. Travis growled low in his throat at the blank dismissal of those eyes. He was less than a slug, not given as much courtesy as a canal-minnow. Nuala was shrinking back against his chest as the eyes drove into her. Rudra whispered, "But--_you_! You are familiar. Something from out of the past ... the dead past ... centuries ... eons ... ages ago. A woman--a queen--Nuatha of the Yellow Hair. Queen of the Nekkalad!" "I am Nuala. Her daughter." Rudra looked interested. Nuala went on, "Before you smashed Flormaseron, my parents and the Nekkalad scientists imprisoned me in your own crystal crypt. They fed me energy ... and the thought-waves of all living things. I know of you, Rudra, of your plans...."