"The train seems to have stopped," said the banker.

Bezdek turned to the window. It was true. The night was clouded and dark but he could make out a single tree in faint silhouette and it was not moving. The knock on the stateroom door came again.

"I'd better see who it is," said Bezdek, rising. "Maybe something is wrong."

He opened the door quickly—all but fell back into his seat. The tall young man with the too-perfect features—the man who had tried in vain to speak to him at the Kansas City airport, who had been forcibly evicted earlier from the car—stood there!

The young man smiled and it was much too cold to be ingratiating if that was its intent. He said, looking down on both men, "I think you will wish to talk to me now."

The sheer effrontery of it rendered Cyril Bezdek speechless for the first time in years. Looking past the intruder through the angle of the open door he could see Ty Falter sitting on the corridor floor, leaning against the wall. His eyes were closed, his head canted at an odd angle.

It was Dorwin who first found words. "Who are you?" he inquired. "What do you want?"

"I am from Mars," said the stranger. "I have come here to enter a protest against the manner in which Mr. Bezdek's motion pictures are portraying my people."

The movie-maker's mouth dropped open. He closed it quickly, glanced across at the banker, saw equal bewilderment on that usually poker-face. On impulse, Bezdek reached for the buzzer that would summon aid and pressed it firmly several times.

"No one will answer," said the intruder in a voice remarkable not for its accent but for its lack of any. "We have been forced to—to immobilize this train in order to see you. It has been very difficult to reach you, Mr. Bezdek, I am sure through no fault of your own. But the people of my planet feel very strongly about this matter and I must get some satisfaction for them."

"So help me," said the mogul, his thin face purple with anger, "if this is a gag I'll see you jailed for it! And before you're jailed you're going to have a very unpleas—"

"No, Mr. Bezdek—Mr. Dorwin—this is not a joke. We of Mars are proud of our culture, our civilization. We do not like being portrayed as evil and ridiculous creatures. We're not like those filthy Venerians. We Martians have a great self-respect."

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