structure built of a coarse-grained granite-like stone. The noon sun struck slantwise against the slabs which sparkled weirdly. Rick Mason stood outside and directed a thought at the Venusian within.

Klon Darra?

Yes?

I'm right outside the palace.

I thought I told you to leave Mordarga at once.

The hell with that, Mason said in an impatient mental snap. I'm here. Guide me in.

Very well. I'm in a dungeon on the third sublevel of the palace. If you can get that far I'll direct you the rest of the way.

A Mordargan guard, his nose in the air, stood outside the main walk that led to the palace. Mason walked past him, nodded obsequiously, and kept going. The guard didn't even bother to notice him.

He didn't need to. He was just a decoration. But the guard at the inner wall frowned suspiciously and said, "Where are you going, Earthman?"

"Inside." Mason's voice was tight. "I want to look around a little."

"Do you have a pass?"

"Sure. Right here in my hand." The subminiaturized blaster in his palm flashed once, a brief bright spurt of energy that bored a pencil-thin hole through the Mordargan's burly chest. Mason leaped forward, caught the guard as he started to fall, and eased him to a sitting position on a bench.

The alien's eyes were glazing. The shot had been instantly fatal.

"You wait right here," Mason told the dead Mordargan. "I'm going inside."

He ran up the broad stone steps of the palace, entered an empty corridor and ducked into a beckoning stairway. No one interfered with him as he circled downward, down into the palace's depths.

On the third level downward he shot another beam of thought at the captive Venusian.

I'm here, Klon Darra!

You're a crazy fool, but I'm glad you did it, came the reply. Go down the left-hand corridor about a hundred paces and turn right. There's an alcove there and a half-stairway that descends 

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