me of age. It is only reluctantly they have
followed the orders from the rulers of our home planets to obey me. They
intend to slay me, and report my death as an accident. I live in fear,
and I have long awaited their treachery. There is but one hope for me
and that is Cyane, the Superior One whom I saved only by enclosing her
in that living coffin. That is what I ask of you--to succeed where the
Zervs have failed, and to release her and guide her in flight from here.
She can lead your people, save them from these monstrous Jivros who have
made of my race the things which you see. I would save your people as
well as myself. Will you try to release her?"

I leaned back against the cushions, crossed my legs, took out my pipe.
This was not exactly a surprise, but I had not realized the rift between
her and the peculiar insect-men was such as to cause her to fear for her
life.

"How does one release a person from such a death?" I asked. "In my
people's understanding of life, death comes with the stopping of the
breath."

"She can be released by an injection of a stimulant which I can obtain
for you. She is not dead, but in a condition very near to death, like a
spider stung by a wasp. If she were free, she would soon scour your
earth clean of the Jivros. Our race needs her even more than your own,
yet I must pretend to be her enemy. I must pretend to be your
seductress, and worm from you the knowledge which the Jivros will use to
conquer and enslave your planet and your people. I must play this part,
unnatural to me, of a cruel and heartless ruler, or they will have me
killed by some subtle poison which they will call illness. You see, the
Jivros are our doctors. Much of the wisdom of our race is in their
hands. They are our priests and our administrators. They leave to us
only useless occupations which will not allow us to be dangerous. For
centuries they have been taking over every vital function of our life. I
am allowed to live only so long as I am a willing tool, and foolish
enough to wreak their evil will upon my people. It is a part I cannot
continue to play. Every instinct of my being shrinks from what I am
forced to order done daily, from what I am forced to allow them to do to
human beings."

This was a different kettle of fish than I had expected. This slender,
lovely creature, with her hands wrung together in pain and sorrow for
her brutally maltreated people, this tear-streaked lovely face contorted
with