Where was Bohr? The big Marlan seemed to have vanished. A dozen of Bohr's men were in a little drunken group, their boistering voices suppressed now as they stood at the edge of the platform behind the Selah's cradle. The barrage was close behind them. And as Atwood's apprehensive gaze stared at the purple radiance, dimly behind it he could see that the genes were crowding. Attracted by the scent of the human crowd here, they had gathered outside the barrage. Thousands of them—ghastly, tumbling, tentacled balls of saffron, milling one upon the other as they pressed forward. Thousands? There could have been millions; a saffron sea of them out there.

"The Man-God will speak to us now." It was Ah-li's voice, prompting him.

Atwood gathered his wits. He began to talk. What matter the words. He hardly knew what he was saying, for abruptly behind the Ruler-Selah, Bohr had appeared. Bohr with a knife in his hand. And in that same instant, with a ponderous leap he plunged the knife into the Selah's bloated back!

There was a second of ghastly startled silence. Then chaos. The prostrate Marlans gasped; then leaped to their feet, shouting, milling with terror and confusion. Bohr's men from behind the platform leaped upon it. All of them with knives, plunging the blades into the Ruler's puffed, toadlike body; and then standing, shouting at the crowd.

It was a startled instant while Atwood stood numbed. Bohr again had vanished; and then suddenly he appeared on the platform with Ah-li and was standing beside her, with his heavy arm around her as she sagged against him in terror. He, too, was shouting at the crowd now; and then he shouted in English:

"I am the Man-God! Your Man-God and the new Ruler."

All in a few seconds, and then Atwood recovered his wits. Like an awkward plunging bird he leaped from one platform to the other, landing full upon Ah-li and the shouting Bohr. It took Bohr by surprise. Atwood's body struck him full so that he rocked, staggered a little, his grip releasing the girl as wildly he flailed his arms to ward off this huge attacking thing clinging to him. The impact against Bohr's solidity all but knocked the breath from Atwood. He found himself hanging with feet off the ground as he clung. And desperately he fought for the knife. Bohr's fingers in his confusion must have gripped it loosely; and abruptly Atwood had it, stabbed it into Bohr's face.

Gruesome thrust. It went slowly into the tough, heavy flesh as with 

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