activity in other respects ... Ross had to fight a wayward and
fascinated interest in all he could see, force himself to concentrate on
learning what might be pertinent to his own mission. But Loketh did not
allow him to watch for long. Instead, his hand on the Terran's arm urged
the other down the gallery behind the screen and once more into the bulk
of the fortress.

Another narrow way ran through the thickness of the walls. Then a patch
of light, not that of outer day, but a reddish gleam from an opening
waist high. There Loketh went awkwardly to his good knee, motioning Ross
to follow his example.

What lay below was a hall furnished with a barbaric rawness of color and
glitter. There were long strips of brightly hued woven stuff on the
walls, touched here and there with sparkling glints which were
jewel-like. And set at intervals among the hangings were oval objects
perhaps Ross's height on which were designs and patterns picked out in
paint and metal. Maybe the stylized representation of native plants and
animals.

The whole gave an impression of clashing color, just as the garments of
those gathered there were garish in turn.

There were three Hawaikans on the two-step dais. All wore robes fitting
tightly to the upper portion of their bodies, girded to their waists
with elaborate belts, then falling in long points to floor level, the
points being finished off with tassels. Their heads were covered with
tight caps which were a latticework of decorated strips, glittering as
they moved. And the mixture of colors in their apparel was such as to
offend Terran eyes with their harsh clash of shade against shade.

Drawn up below the dais were two rows of guards. But the reason for the
assembly baffled Ross, since he could not understand the clicking
speech.

There came a hollow echoing sound as from a gong. The three on the dais
straightened, turned their attention to the other end of the hall. Ross
did not need Loketh's gesture to know that something of importance was
about to begin.

Down the hall was a somber note in the splash of clashing color. The
Terran recognized the gray-blue robe of the Foanna. There were three of
the robed ones this time, one slightly in advance of the other two. They
came at a gliding pace as if they swept along above that paved flooring,
not by planting feet upon it. As they halted below the dais the men
there rose.

Ross could read their reluctance to make that concession in the