at one another, wonderingly. Hendricks was the first to make a move.

"That's the mob!" he said, darting toward the door. We followed him
swiftly to the exit of the ship, through the air-lock, out into the
open.

Hendricks had spoken the truth. Liane was walking, very slowly and
deliberately, her head flung back proudly, toward the city. Coming
toward her, like a great ragged wave, was a mighty mass of humanity,
led by capering old men--undoubtedly the lesser priests, who had
turned against her.

"The portable projectors, sir!" begged Correy excitedly. "A pair of
them, and that mob--"

"We're bound by our promise," I reminded him. "She's not afraid; her
power is terrible. I believe she'll win without them. Look!"

Liane had paused. She lifted one hand in a gesture of command, and
called out to the rabble. Correy translated the whole thing for me
later.

"Halt!" she cried sharply. "Who moves upon the Chief Priestess of the
Flame earns the embrace of the Flame!"

The crowd halted, cowering; then the old man shouted to them and
gestured them onward. With a rush, the front ranks came on.

"So!" Liane called out to them. "You would disobey Liane? Yet even yet
it is not too late; Liane gives you one chance more. You little know
the Chief Priestess of the Flame if you think she will tolerate an
encroachment of her power. Back! Back, I say, or you all shall feel
the might of Liane!"

Before her tirade the mob faltered, but again the crazed old men led
them on.

Liane turned, saw us, and made a regal gesture of farewell. From the
bosom of her tunic she snatched a small black object, and swung it
high above her head.

"The bomb!" shouted Hendricks. "She has it; she--"

At the very feet of the onrushing crowd the black object struck. There
was a hollow roar; a blast of thundering air swept us backward to the
ground.

When we scrambled to our feet, Liane was gone. The relentless mob had
gone. Where they had been was a great crater of raw earth, strewn with
ghastly fragments. Far back toward the city a few straggling figures
ran frantically away from that scene of death.

"Gone!" I said. "Power was a mania, an obsession with her. Even her
death was a supreme gesture--of power, of authority."

"Liane," Hendricks whispered. "Chief Priestess of the Flame ... Giver
of Death...."

* * * * *

With Liane gone, and with her the old men who had tried to snatch her
power from her hand, an