es and
looked, but seeing no one closed them again.

The Voice returned, and two of the words which kept repeating were
somehow familiar. "So sorry ... so sorry...." The Voice was low and
cool and feminine. And someone was bathing his battered head.... He
rolled over and got up on one elbow. He still could see no one.

The Voice said: "Oh, I'm so glad you're better! I thought you'd never
come to!"

Mechanically Clee asked: "Who are you?"

"Vivian Gray," came the quick answer; "from Boston. And you?"

Clee did not answer, but started to lie back again. Things were all
wrong: he couldn't even see anyone. He'd go back to sleep, and wake up
some other time. But the Voice wouldn't let him.

"Oh, you must listen!" it said. "I haven't much time!"

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Why--right here!" came the surprised answer. "Can't you see me?"

"No," answered Clee, still not himself. He added categorically: "I can
see Jim. I can see the door. I can see my hands, but I can't see you."

"Oh, then it must be true! Xantra _told_ me he was going to make you
one of his common slaves; but I hoped--I hoped--"

* * * * *

This didn't mean much to Clee; but with the words came memory of all
that had happened, and with sudden concern he crept over to where Jim
was lying, to see how he was. He found him blinking and stirring,
aroused by the voices. Quickly he explained the invisible presence to
him, warning him to be on guard.

"Oh, but I'm a friend--Vivian Gray--kidnapped from Earth just like
you!" came quick explanation out of the air. "Xantra stole me from
Cape Cod, where I was vacationing, about the time he took you. Xantra
is the one whose space ship we are on. He looks much like a man; he is
some kind of a man; but he's not from Earth--"

"You've _seen_ him?" interrupted Clee, beginning to believe the Voice
a little.

"Yes," came the instant response; "not when he abducted me--he had
made himself invisible for that--but always after. Haven't you yet?"
And then, without waiting for his answer, she gave it herself. "But of
course you couldn't see him if he's already given you the universal
atomic rhythm the slaves have. You'd then be able to see only each
other, and the other slaves; not Xantra and not me.

"I think he makes his slaves that way for protection," she explained.
"They can't very well plot or rebel against him when they can't even
see him, and never know but what he's around.