n clear?"

"It's clear enough as far as it goes, but what do they look like to
themselves?"

"That's too deep for me--I can't explain it, any better than you can.
Take the Osnomian color 'mlap,' for instance. Can you describe it?"

"It's a kind of greenish orange--but it seems as though it ought not to
look like that color either."

"That's it, exactly. From the knowledge you received from the educator,
it should be a brilliant purple. That is due to the difference in the
optic nerves, which explains why we see things so differently from the
way the Osnomians do. Perhaps they can describe the way they look to
each other in our white light."

"Can you, Sitar?" asked Dorothy.

"One word describes it--'horrible.'" replied the Kondalian princess, and
her husband added:

"The colors are distorted and unrecognizable, just as your colors are to
your eyes in our light."

"Well, now that the color question is answered, let's get going. I
pretty nearly asked you the way, Dunark--forgot that I know it as well
as you do."

* * * * *

The Skylark set off at as high an altitude as the Osnomians could stand.
As they neared the ocean several great Mardonalian battleships, warned
of the escape, sought to intercept them; but the Skylark hopped over
them easily, out of range of their heaviest guns, and flew onward at
such speed that pursuit was not even attempted. The ocean was quickly
crossed. Soon the space-car came to rest over a great city, and Seaton
pointed out the palace; which, with its landing dock nearby, was very
similar to that of Nalboon, in the capital city of Mardonale.

Crane drew Seaton to one side.

"Do you think it is safe to trust these Kondalians, any more than it was
the others? How would it be to stay in the Lark instead of going into
the palace?"

"Yes, Mart, this bunch can be trusted. Dunark has a lot of darn queer
ideas, but he's square as a die. He's our friend, and will get us the
copper. We have no choice now, anyway, look at the bar. We haven't an
ounce of copper left--we're down to the plating in spots. Besides, we
couldn't go anywhere if we had a ton of copper, because the old bus is a
wreck. She won't hold air--you could throw a cat out through the shell
in any direction. She'll have to have a lot of work done on her before
we can think of leaving. As to staying in her, that wouldn't help us a
bit. Steel is as soft as wood to these folks--their shells would g