Arcot turned to Torlos and projected a thought: "What is that tablet?"

"Ever since the beginning of the war with the other planet, Nansal, the

names of our mighty leaders have been inscribed on that plaque in the

rarest metal."

The term "rarest metal" was definite to Torlos, and Arcot decided to

question him further on the meaning of it when time permitted.

They crossed the great hall and came to what was evidently an elevator.

The door slid open, and the two Earthmen followed Torlos and his

lieutenant into the cubicle. Torlos pushed a small button. The door slid

shut, and a moment later, Arcot and Morey staggered under the sudden

terrific load as the car shot upward under an acceleration of at least

three gravities!

It continued just long enough for the Earthmen to get used to it, then

it snapped off, and they went flying up toward the ceiling as it

continued upward under its own momentum. It slowed under the influence

of the planet's gravitation and came to a stop exactly opposite the

doorway of a higher floor.

"Wow! Some elevator!" exclaimed Morey as he stepped out, flexing his

knees as he tried to readjust himself. "That's what I call a violent way

of getting upstairs! It wasn't designed by a lazy man or a cripple! I

prefer to walk, thanks! What I want to know is how the old people get

upstairs. Or do they die young from using their elevators?"

"No," mused Arcot. "That's the funny thing. They don't seem to be

bothered by the acceleration. They actually jumped a little off the

floor when we started, and didn't seem to experience much difficulty

when we stopped." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, when

Torlos was bending that crowbar back there in the ship, I picked up a

curious thought--I wonder if--" He turned to the giant alien. "Torlos,

you once gave me the thought-idea 'bone metal'; what is that?"

Torlos looked at him in surprise and then pointed mutely to a heavy belt

he wore--made of closely woven links of iron wire!

"I was right, Morey!" Arcot exclaimed. "These men have _iron bones_! No

wonder he could bend that crowbar! It would be as easy as it would for

you or me to snap a human arm bone!"

"But, wait a minute!" Morey objected. "How could iron grow?"

"How can stone grow?" countered Arcot. "That's what your bones are,

essentially--calcium phosphate rock! It's just a matter of different

body chemistry. Their body fluids are probably alkaline, and iron won't

rust in an alkaline solution." Arcot was talking rapidly as they

followed the aliens down the long corridor.

"The thing that confirms my theory is that elevator. It's merely an

iron cage in a magnetic beam, and it's pulled up with a terrific

acceleration. With iron bones, these men would be similarly influenced,

and they wouldn't notice the acceleration so much."

Morey grinned. "I'll be willing to bet they don't use cells in their

prisons, here! Just magnetize the floor, and the poor guy could never

get away!"

Arcot nodded. "Of course, the bones must be pure iron; their bones

evidently don't retain any of the magnetism when they leave the field."

"We seem to be here," Morey interrupted. "Let's continue the discussion

later."

Their party had stopped just outside a large, elaborately carved door,

the first sign of ornamentation the Earthmen had seen. There were four

guards armed with pistols, which, they discovered later, were powered by

compressed air under terrific pressure. They hurled a small metal slug

through a rifled barrel, and were effective over a distance of about a

mile, although they could only fire four times without reloading.

Torlos spoke briefly with the guard, who saluted and opened the door.

The two Earthmen followed Torlos into a large room.

Before them was a large, crescent-shaped table, around which were seated

several men. At the center of the crescent curve sat a man in a gray

uniform, but he was so bedecked with insignia, medals, ribbons, and

decorations that his uniform was scarcely visible.

The entire assemblage, including the leader, rose as the Earthmen

entered. Arcot and Morey, taking the hint, snapped to attention and

delivered a precise military salute.

"We greet you in the name of our planet," said Arcot aloud. "I know you

don't understand a word I'm saying, but I hope it sounds impressive

enough. We salute you, O High Muckymuck!"

Morey, successfully keeping a straight face, raised his hand and said

sonorously: "That goes double for me, bub."

In his own language, the leader replied, putting his hands to his hips

with a definite motion, and shaking his head from side to side at the

same time.

Arcot watched the man closely while he spoke. He was taller than Torlos,

but less heavily built, as were all the others here. It seemed that

Torlos was unusually powerful, even for this world.

When the leader had finished, Arcot smiled and turned to project this

thoughts at Torlos.

"Tell your leader that we come from a planet far away across the vast

depths of space. We come in peace, and we will leave in peace, but we

would like to ask some favors of him, which we will repay by giving him

the secret of our weapons. With them, he can easily conquer Nansal.

"All we want is some wire made from the element lead and some

information from your astronomers."

Torlos turned and spoke to his leader in a deep, powerful voice.

Meanwhile, Morey was trying to get in communication with the ship. The

walls, however, seemed to be made of metal, and he couldn't get through

to Wade.

"We're cut off from the ship," he said quietly to Arcot.

"I was afraid of that, but I think it'll be all right. Our proposition

is too good for them to turn down."

Torlos turned back to Arcot when the leader had finished speaking. "The

Commanding One asks that you prove the possibilities of your weapons.

His scientists tell him that it is impossible to make the trip that you

claim to have made."

"What your scientists say is true, to an extent," Arcot thought. "They

have learned that no body can go faster than the speed of light--is that

not so?"

"Yes. Such, they say, is the fact. To have made this trip, you must, of

necessity, be not less than twenty million years old!"

"Tell them that there are some things they do not yet know about space.

The velocity of light is a thing that is fixed by the nature of space,

right?"

Torlos consulted with the scientists again, then turned back to Arcot.

"They agree that they do not know all the secrets of the Universe, but

they agree that the speed of light is fixed by the nature of space."

"How fast does sound travel?" Arcot asked.

"They ask in what medium do you mean?"

"How fast does light travel? In air? In glass? The speed of light is as

variable as that of sound. If I can alter the nature of space, so as to

make the velocity of light greater, can I not then go faster than in

normal space?"

"They say that this is true," Torlos said, after more conversation with

the men at the table, "but they say that space is unalterable, since it

is emptiness."

"Ask them if they know of the curvature of space." Arcot was becoming

worried for fear his explanation would be unintelligible; unless they

knew his terms, he could not explain, and it would take a long time to

teach them.

"They say," Torlos thought, "that I have misunderstood you. They say

space could not possibly be curved, for space is emptiness, and how

could empty nothingness be curved."

Arcot turned to Morey and shrugged his shoulders. "I give up, Morey;

it's a bad case. If they insist that space is nothing, and can't be

curved, I can't go any further."

"If they don't know of the curvature of space," said Morey, "ask them

how they learned that the velocity of light is the limiting velocity of

a moving body."

Torlos translated and the scientists gave their reply. "They say that

you do not know more of space than they, for they know that the speed of

light is ultimate. They have tested this with spaceships at high speeds

and with experiments with the smallest particles of electricity."

The scientists were looking at Arcot now in protest; they felt he was

trying to foist something off on them.

Arcot, too, was becoming exasperated. "Well, if they insist that we

couldn't have come from another star, where do they think I come from?

They have explored this system and found no such people as we, so I must

have come from another star. How? If they won't accept my explanations,

let them think up a theory of their own to explain the facts!" He

paused for Torlos to translate, then went on. "They say I don't know any

more than they do. Tell them to watch this."

He drew his molecular ray pistol and lifted a heavy metal chair into the

air. Then Morey drew his heat beam and turned it on the chair. In a few

seconds, it was glowing white hot, and then it collapsed into a fiery

ball of liquid metal. Morey shut off the heat beam, and Arcot held the

ball in the air while it cooled rapidly under the influence of the

molecular ray. Then he lowered it to the floor.

It was obvious that the scientists were impressed, and the Emperor was

talking eagerly with the men around him. They talked for several

minutes, saying nothing to the Earthmen. Torlos stood quietly, waiting

for a message to relay.

The Emperor called out, and some of the guards moved inside the door.

Torlos turned to Arcot. "Show no emotion!" came his telepathic warning.

"I have been listening to them as they spoke. The Commanding One wants

your weapons. Regardless of what his scientists tell him about the

possibility of your trip, he knows those weapons work, and he wants

them.

"You see, I am not a Satorian at all. I'm from Nansal, sent here many

years ago as a spy. I have served in their fleets for many years, and

have gained their trust.

"I am telling you the truth, as you will soon see.

"These people are going to follow their usual line of action and take

the most direct way toward their end. They are going to attack you,

believing that you, despite your weapons, will go down before superior

numbers.

"And you'd better move fast; he's calling the guards already!"

Arcot turned to Morey, his face calm, his heart beating like a

vibrohammer. "Keep your face straight, Morey. Don't look surprised.

They're planning to jump us. We'll rip out the right wall and--"

He stopped. It was too late! The order had been given, and the guards

were leaping toward them. Arcot grabbed at his ray pistol, but one of

the guards jumped him before he had a chance to draw it.

Torlos seized the man by one leg and an arm and, tensing his huge

muscles, hurled him thirty feet against the Commanding One with such

force that both were killed instantly! He turned and grabbed another

before his first victim had landed and hurled him toward the advancing

guards. Arcot thought fleetingly that here was proof of Torlos' story of

being from Nansal; the greater gravity of the third planet made him a

great deal stronger than the Satorians!

One of the guards was trying to reach for Arcot. Acting instinctively,

the Earthman lashed out with a hard jab to the point of the Satorian's

jaw. The iron bones transmitted the shock beautifully to the delicate

brain; the man's head jerked back, and he collapsed to the floor.

Arcot's hand felt as though he'd hit it with a hammer, but he was far

too busy to pay any attention to the pain.

Morey, too, had realized the futility of trying to overcome the guards

by wrestling. The only thing to do was dodge and punch. The guards were

trying to take the Earthmen alive, but, because of their greater weight,

they couldn't move quite as fast as Arcot and Morey.

Torlos was still in action. He had seen the success of the Earthmen who,

weak as they were, had been able to knock a man out with a blow to the

jaw. Driving his own fists like pistons, he imitated their blows with

deadly results; every man he struck went down forever.

The dead were piling around him, but through the open door he could see

reinforcements arriving. Somehow, he had to save these Earthmen; if

Sator got their secrets, Nansal would be lost!

He reached down and grabbed one of the fallen men and hurled him across

the room, smashing back the men who struggled to attack. Then he picked

up another and followed through with a second projectile. Then a third.

With the speed and tirelessness of some giant engine of war, he slammed

his macabre ammunition against the oncoming reinforcements with telling

results.

At last Arcot was free for a moment, and that was all he needed. He

jerked his molecular ray pistol from its holster and beamed it

mercilessly toward the door, hurling the attackers violently backwards.

They died instantly, their chilled corpses driving back against their

comrades with killing force.

In a moment, every man in the room was dead except for the two Earthmen

and the giant Torlos.

Outside the room, they could hear shouted orders as more of the Satorian

guards were rallied.

"They'll try to kill us now!" Arcot said. "Come on, we've got to get out

of here!"

"Sure," said Morey, "but which way?"

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