"But why? The Vegans have no use for me."

"No," Nestiv Illon said gently. "But we do."

Another of the reptilian beings approached at that moment and inclined its head toward Illon.

"What is it?"

"We're approaching Vega IX, sir."

"Very good," Illon said. "Shift into transparency-warp and go into orbit."

"Yes, sir." The subordinate inclined his head once again and backed away. Illon turned to Jim Lawrence.

"We are within striking range of the Vegan home base now. Here's where you come in."

"What do you mean?" Lawrence asked.

The alien rose. "It is impossible, of course, for any of us to enter the Vegan base, since no disguise will conceal our fundamental physical appearance. But you—you are of the same general somatic type as the Vegans. A little eye-shadow, a bit of plastotek applied here and there to change the facial contours, and I think you could pass."

"You want me to dip into the Vegan base and rescue the girl? Is that it?"

"Yes," Illon said.

"All very nice—but then what? Do I hand the death ray over to you and let you conquer the galaxy? No, thanks; I might as well let the Vegans do it."

Illon shook his head sadly. "We have no such plans, Jim Lawrence. We are only concerned with keeping the annihilating ray out of the hands of the Vegans, with placing it in the sane custody such a deadly weapon deserves."

"How can I trust you?"

"It will be necessary, I'm afraid. You must believe that we plan no aggression of our own. No—there is a way to prove it to you." He leaned down and spoke rapidly into a microphone.

A few moments later an alien appeared, bearing a gleaming chromium helmet. He handed it silently to Lawrence, who examined it curiously.

"What's this?"

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