ive minutes before, and covering his entire Atlantic Division. He would
have it, recorded in cold print before him, within a moment.

Yet, compared to the Rhaalton efficiency, our own methods seemed
antiquated indeed. This man was in touch with every transpiring detail
simultaneously; yet not confused by them, for every detail was also
combined into a whole--to be examined for itself if he wished. Visually
as well, the entire city lay before his gaze--the walls of the office
were lined with rows and tiers of small mirrors; receivers and
mouthpieces connected him with everything. Sights, sounds, and even
smells of the various factories were available to him--smells when his
sense of smell might be necessary for the testing of some elusive gas.

Without moving his physical body his presence was in effect transported
wherever throughout the city he wished to be. A man of tremendous
concentration, to handle but one thing at a time; with all the power of
his brain to give instant decision, and then to forget it utterly.

I found him a rather small man; smooth-shaven; grey-haired; a grave face
and demeanor, with dark eyes solemn with thought, yet twinkling often
when he spoke. A man of flabby muscles and gentle voice; seemingly
unforceful, and with a personality likable, but hardly dominating.

Instinctively I found myself comparing him to Tarrano. Tarrano's strong,
wiry body. The flash of his eye; his inscrutability, always suggesting
menace; the power, the genius of his personality--the force radiating
from him which no one could mistake. His intellectual power--his
concentration--certainly the equal of this little leader of the
_Rhaals_.

Tarrano the Conqueror! Tarrano--man of destiny--risen from nothing and
by the sheer genius of his will throwing three worlds into chaos, at one
stage combining two worlds into his self-created Empire; and menacing
the third. Surely Tarrano was a greater man than this Rhaalton. I knew
it; much as I hated Tarrano I was forced to admit it.

Yet as I stood there acknowledging the soft-spoken greeting of Rhaalton,
I had the swift premonition that Tarrano was going down into defeat. And
that this little man, without moving from his desk or raising his voice,
would be the main factor in bringing it about.

And I wondered why such a thing could be. I know why now. Tarrano, with
all his genius, lacked just one quality which this little man had in
abundance. The milk of human kindness--humani