le of plates that were
kept on hand. Every plate made was printed in triplicate, to prevent
their being destroyed in a raid. The original was kept at the
observatory, and copies were sent to two of the largest cities on
Nansal. It was from this file that Tharlano had gathered the data
necessary to show Arcot his own galaxy.

Tharlano was proudly explaining the telescope to Arcot, realizing that
the telectroscope was far better, but knowing that the Earthmen would
appreciate this triumph of mechanical perfection. Arcot and Morey were
both intensely interested in the discussion, while Torlos, slightly
bored by a subject he knew next to nothing about, was examining the rest
of the observatory.

Suddenly, he cried out in warning, and leaped a full thirty feet over
the rock floor to gather Arcot and Morey in his great arms. There was a
sharp, distinct snap of a pneumatic pistol, and the thud of a bullet.
Arcot and Morey each felt Torlos jerk!

Quick as a flash, Torlos pushed the two men behind the great tube of the
telescope. He leaped over it and across the room, and disappeared into
the supply room. There was the noise of a scuffle, another crack from a
pneumatic pistol, and the sudden crash and tinkle of broken glass.

Suddenly, the figure of a man described a wide arc as it flew out of the
supply room and landed with a heavy crash on the floor. Instantly,
Torlos leaped at him. There was a trickle of blood from his left
shoulder, but he gripped the man in his giant arms, pinning him to the
floor. The struggle was brief. Torlos simply squeezed the man's chest in
his arms. There was the faint creak of metal, and the man's chest began
to bend! In a moment, he was unconscious.

Torlos pulled a heavy leather belt off of the unconscious man and tied
his arms with it, wrapping it many times around the wrists, and was
picking the man up when Tharlano arrived, followed by Arcot and Morey.
Torlos smiled broadly.

"This is one Satorian spy that won't report. I could have finished him
when I got my hold on him, but I wanted to take him before the Council
for questioning. He'll be all right; I just dented his chest a little."

"We owe our lives to you again, Torlos," Arcot told him gravely. "But
you certainly risked your life; the bullet might well have penetrated
your heart instead of striking a rib, as it seems to have done."

"Rib? What is a rib?" The thought concept seemed totally unfamiliar to
Torlos.

Arcot looked at