The voice told him of the war on Grismet and of the permallium constructed robots, and of the cement blocks. This, however, he already knew, because he had been one of the delegates to the Peace Conference who had decided to dispose of the robots.

A full course between Earth and Grismet had to be plotted and cleared by the technicians at the dispatch center because the mass of the vessel increased so greatly with its pulsating speed that if any two ships passed within a hundred thousand miles of each other, they would at least be torn from their course, and might even be totally destroyed.

And according to galactic decree, he, like his fellows, was to be manacled in permallium and fixed in a great block of cement, and that block was to be dropped into the deep silent depths of the Grismet ocean, to be slowly covered by the blue sediment that gradually filters down through the miles of ocean water to stay immobile and blind for countless millions of years. Jordan arose to his feet.

There was a small outcropping of limestone near the cement walk, and he stepped over to it and sat down. He would have been happy to rest and enjoy for a few moments his escape and his triumph, but he had to let the others know so that they might have hope. He closed his eyes and groped across the stars toward Grismet.

"I know that I must have kicked up a fuss. You don't have to spell it out for me." "Read it," the chief said impatiently. Jordan took back the stellogram and examined it. It read. To: Captain Lawrence Macrae Detection Agency, Grismet. From: Prantal Aminopterin Delegate from Casseiopeia Chairman, Grismet Peace Committee of the Galactic Senate.

Almost immediately he felt an impatient tug at his mind, strong because there were many clamoring at once to be heard. He counted them. There were seventeen. So one more had been captured since he had left Grismet. "Be quiet," the told them. "I'll let you see, after a while. First I have to reach the two of us that are still free."

Hall came out of the entrance and tried to walk around the two men, but the farmer caught him by the sleeve. "A reporter, huh? Well, I got some news for you. That thing from Grismet just killed a kid." Hall could restrain himself no longer. "That's a lie," he said coldly. The farmer looked him up and down. "What do you know about it," he demanded.

They'll be some time tracking them all down, before they can get to me." In a flash of his mind, Hall revealed his escape and the one on Grismet nodded and said: "Be careful. Be very careful. You are our only hope." Hall returned then to the seventeen, and he said with his thoughts: "All right, now you can look."

Since Jordan's ship was not large enough to transport Jon Hall's great weight back to Grismet, the terrestrial government put at the agent's disposal a much heavier vessel, one room of which had been hastily lined with permallium and outfitted as a prison cell. A pilot by the name of Wilkins went with the ship.

The committee will arrive in Grismet some time during the next month to decide on permanent disposition. Jordan's heart swelled as he read the gram. "It worked," he said. "They have changed their minds. It won't be so bad being discharged now." He put the paper back on the desk and arose to go. The chief smiled and it was like sunlight suddenly flooding over an arctic glacier. "Discharged?