a problem to sleep on," Morey said. "I'll
get in touch with Sonor and tell 'em the shooting is over, so they can
get some sleep too.

"It's obvious a bunch of high-power research teams are going to be
needed in both countries. Earth has every reason to respect Sonoran
mental sciences as well as Kaxorian light-engineering. And Earth--as we
just thoroughly demonstrated--has some science of her own. Obviously,
the interaction of the three is to the maximum advantage of each--and
will lead to a healing of the breach that now exists."

Arcot looked up and yawned. "I'm putting this on autopilot at twenty
miles up, and going to sleep. We can kick this around for a month
anyway--and this is not the night to start."

"The decision is unanimous," Wade grinned.

BOOK THREE

THE BLACK STAR PASSES

PROLOGUE

Taj Lamor gazed steadily down at the vast dim bulk of the ancient city
spread out beneath him. In the feeble light of the stars its mighty
masses of up-flung metal buildings loomed strangely, like the shells of
some vast race of crustacea, long extinct. Slowly he turned, gazing now
out across the great plaza, where rested long rows of slender, yet
mighty ships. Thoughtfully he stared at their dim, half-seen shapes.

Taj Lamor was not human. Though he was humanoid, Earth had never seen
creatures just like him. His seven foot high figure seemed a bit
ungainly by Terrestrial standards, and his strangely white, hairless
flesh, suggesting unbaked dough, somehow gave the impression of
near-transparency. His eyes were disproportionately large, and the black
disc of pupil in the white corneas was intensified by contrast. Yet
perhaps his race better deserved the designation _homo sapiens_ than
Terrestrians do, for it was wise with the accumulated wisdom of
uncounted eons.

He turned to the other man in the high, cylindrical, dimly lit tower
room overlooking the dark metropolis, a man far older than Taj Lamor,
his narrow shoulders bent, and his features grayed with his years. His
single short, tight-fitting garment of black plastic marked him as one
of the Elders. The voice of Taj Lamor was vibrant with feeling:

"Tordos Gar, at last we are ready to seek a new sun. Life for our race!"

A quiet, patient, imperturbable smile appeared on the Elder's face and
the heavy lids closed over his great eyes.

"Yes," he said sadly, "but at what cost in tranquility! The discord, the
unrest, the awakening of unnatural ambit