ure. The cruciform Shape I have named the Keeper
was the agent of destruction--of that there could be no doubt. In the
enigmatic organism which while many still was one and which, retaining
its integrity as a whole could dissociate manifold parts yet still as a
whole maintain an unseen contact and direction over them through miles
of space, the Keeper had its place, its work, its duties.

So too had that wondrous Disk whose visible and concentrate power, whose
manifest leadership, had made us name it emperor.

And had not Norhala called the Disk--Ruler?

What were the responsibilities of these twain to the mass of the
organism of which they were such important units? What were the laws
they administered, the laws they must obey?

Something certainly of that mysterious law which Maeterlinck has called
the spirit of the Hive--and something infinitely greater, like that
which governs the swarming sun bees of Hercules' clustered orbs.

Had there evolved within the Keeper of the Cones--guardian and engineer
as it seemed to have been--ambition?

Had there risen within it a determination to wrest power from the Disk,
to take its place as Ruler?

How else explain that conflict I had sensed when the Emperor had plucked
Drake and me from the Keeper's grip that night following the orgy of the
feeding?

How else explain that duel in the shattered Hall of the Cones whose end
had been the signal for the final cataclysm?

How else explain the alinement of the cubes behind the Keeper against
the globes and pyramids remaining loyal to the will of the Disk?

We discussed this, Ventnor and I.

"This world," he mused, "is a place of struggle. Air and sea and land
and all things that dwell within and on them must battle for life. Earth
not Mars is the planet of war. I have a theory"--he hesitated--"that the
magnetic currents which are the nerve force of this globe of ours were
what fed the Metal Things.

"Within those currents is the spirit of earth. And always they have been
supercharged with strife, with hatreds, warfare. Were these drawn in by
the Things as they fed? Did it happen that the Keeper became--TUNED--to
them? That it absorbed and responded to them, growing even more
sensitive to these forces--until it reflected humanity?"

"Who knows, Goodwin--who can tell?"

Enigma, unless the explanations I have hazarded be accepted, must remain
that monstrous suicide. Enigma, save for inconclusive theories, must
remain the