leased to a well earned
reward."

The aristo ignored the interruption. "We take it that only two will
now be required to operate this Control Station, to supply the last
modicum of human intelligence required to meet unforeseen
emergencies."

* * * * *

I saw that Keston was about to interrupt once more, to tell the
Council of the thought coil, the most unbelievable part of the miracle
he had wrought. But something seemed to warn me that he should not
speak. Standing behind him I nudged him, while I myself replied: "Yes,
Your Excellency." The chief flung me a startled look, but did not
correct me.

From the packed crowd of prolats at the other end of the hall I could
hear a murmuring. While I could not make out the words, the very tones
told me that in the hearts of those weary slaves new hope was rising,
the same hope that glowed in Keston's face. But I was oppressed by an
unreasoning fear.

Atuna was still talking, in his cold, unemotional monotone. "This being
so, hear now our decision. Keston and Meron, you will remain here to meet
all emergencies. You others, your function is done. You have done your
work well, you are now no longer needed to control the machines.
Therefore,"--he paused, and my heart almost stopped--"therefore, being no
longer of value, you will be disposed of."

A click sounded loud through the stunned silence. Beyond the white
crowd the huge black portal slid slowly open. A shimmering radiance of
glowing vapors blazed from the space beyond.

"Prolats, file singly into the Death Bath!" Atuna raised his voice
only slightly with the command. I glanced at Keston. He was livid with
fury.

Incredible as it may seem, so ingrained was the habit of obedience to
the aristos in the prolats that not even a murmur of protest came from
the condemned beings. The nearest man to the flaming death stepped out
into the void. His doomed body flared, then vanished. The next moved
to his turn.

* * * * *

But suddenly a great shout rang out.

"Stop!"

It was Keston's voice, but so changed, so packed with fury and
outrage, that I scarcely recognized it.

His spare, tall form was drawn tensely straight as he shook a clenched
fist at the Council. He was quivering with anger, and his eyes blazed.

"Aristos, you do wrong! These men have served you faithfully and well.
I demand for them the reward they have earned--rest and leisure, and
the p