so difficult to bring them back to conscious life."

He followed Bill into the hushed atmosphere of the Juvenal, his own mind strangely blanked as he communicated with the other Panadurs aboard. It was their way, mysterious, aloof.

And now that the screens were down, the subtle, all-pervading vibrations of the Cinnabarians had commenced again.

They would have to don Energon helmets, Bill thought wearily. It was a battle without end. But the sight of Margalida was to him like the sight of an eden seen from the bleak monotony of desert wastes. His electric-blue eyes kindled as the girl smiled, a question in her eyes. She extended a fragile hand that might have been carven of Jadite, and in the husky voice with the harp-like cadences she said:

"I know you've won ... and for the first time in my life, I have been glad to know that beings have died!"

It was as near as she could come to exult in the extinction of the dreaded Energasts.

"You're improving!" Bill's face was illumined by a dazzling smile. "I'm afraid that if you're among us for some time, in the end you'll share our atavistic instincts; even Freml here can blast a hellion out of existence when the need arises," he said with a bright glance to the Panadur. "However, we need your help, Margalida. We want to awaken at least one, more if possible, of the remaining scientists in the deathless sleep. Do you know where they are? Can you direct us to them?"

"Yes," she assented gravely. "They sleep in the second tower, where the traction beams that captured the ships of space for the Energasts, are located. I will lead you to them."

"Bring your fellow Panadurs, Freml, we shall need them," Bill telepathed. "This will have to be done with all possible precautions—any moment there may be another attack." A little pulse at the base of his throat trembled as he gazed at Margalida.

The burning roses that were the stars had paled a little, before all the preparations were completed and they were ready to leave the ship. Only Nydron and his battle-crews, with several of the lesser scientists were to remain, for this might be the only chance they would have to wrest the secret from the dormant minds. And then there was Margalida, nothing must happen to her. So Bill Nardon left nothing to chance. Even the austere Juvenal surgeon was to go along, and a protective bodyguard of 

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