Night had settled now. The distant sun was lighting Gora, and in the sky only the brilliant stars were showing. A few glowing lights were evidence that some of her neighbors had not yet retired, but their lights did not penetrate into the thicket of shrubberies that surrounded her favorite nook and formed a bower over a stone bench.

  Looking into the sky she tried to distinguish the planet Earth in the firmament, but she knew that Earth’s gleam was not strong enough to give much light at this great distance. Only with strong telescopes could it be seen close to the sun. Nor were any of the constellations she had known from Earth visible here, although the distant stars shone more brightly because of the fact that Abrui is many millions of miles nearer them than is Earth.

  Moura’s words had caused her some disquietude, and she could not shake off the vague doubts and restlessness that had crept over her. She knew that some big issue was at hand, and she must be careful to see that she was not forced into something she did not wish.

  Repelling these thoughts, she allowed her memories to dwell again on Richard Dorr. Strange that Moura’s words had not seemed to ring true and Richard Dorr seemed very close tonight.

  Suddenly she became aware that she was not alone. A tall slender figure was coming toward her. Could it be he? Could the dead come to claim her? But no, she quickly recognized the voice of Ubca-tor, who so often visited her and sat mooning on her chairs.

  “Dana Gleason,” he murmured, “I prayed that you would be here.”

  “And why should Ubca-tor pray for such a thing? Is it not strange for you to be calling at such a late hour?”

  “Not strange, for I know it is your custom to come here always at this hour.”

  “Then you have been keeping me under surveillance?”

  “Only the surveillance of love, Dana Gleason. Ah, how many hours I have spent watching you, always watching.”

  “You too, Ubca? Must every man in the Kirada’s court offer me the same thing—love? Is it not answer enough that I refuse each one?”

  “Ah, Dana Gleason, you mistake me, for though I do love you, I come not to ask for love in return. I come only to sit and bask in the warmth of your presence. Send me not away, for I would be a slave to you—anything, that I might be near you.”

  A low laugh escaped Dana Gleason’s throat. Too many had asked her for the same thing of late, and now it was this callow youth. She was about to say something caustic to him when he spoke again.

  “You sit and watch the stars each night. Do you then know an old legend that has been handed down from the days when our race believed in godlike beings?”

  She admitted she did not.

  “It is a pretty legend. It tells us that the stars are the eyes of lovers who have died and left their loved ones here on Abrui, and they, with a lover’s ardent gaze, are seeking the one they left behind. When they find that one, they then turn their glowing eyes upon all who dare to love the one of their heart and pierce them through and through with the gleam from their eyes so that the presumptuous one becomes mad for evermore!

  “Ah, Dana Gleason, were I only a star to make raving maniacs of all who would dare to love you.”

  “That is a pretty story, Ubca, but you forget in your ardor to ask if perhaps there is not one who has precedence over you. Perhaps it is one who loved and died, who looks to find me, only to stab you through and through so that you might become mad.”

  “You mean, then, that there is another? It is not Moura-tor to whom you propose to give yourself? Many nights I have lain in fear that this might be the truth! For though I realize how young and foolish I am to presume to love you, I should hate to see you favor Moura-tor, who seeks you only through his love of ambition.

  “Many years I have loved Moura-tor, but of late I have grown to hate him. Did I know that he truly loved you, I should be satisfied, but now I know that Moura-tor loves no one but himself! Promise then that you will never mate with him, and if you ever need help, you can call on one who holds you in reverence!”

  As he spoke, Dana Gleason’s impression of the youth changed. She knew now that here was a true friend, and she respected him now in his attitude toward her. She told him of Richard Dorr, and promised him solemnly enough that she would never marry Moura-tor.

  As she spoke, Ubca-tor was remembering something else. He remembered the night when they had discovered her limp form. And he also remembered the body of the man he took for a Gora. Excitedly he asked that she describe Richard Dorr for him. She did. Then, in a voice that shook, he told her what had transpired.

  “The Gora found him. I know he was living. They must have taken him for their own, and possibly he is with them now!”

  A great silence fell upon her. Then she was right! Richard Dorr lived! Quickly she repeated all that Moura-tor had told her. Ubca was convinced that Moura had lied. “Something is behind all this, Dana Gleason. It would be well to discover what we can! Wait … I will go to Gora. I know their language; I can disguise myself as one of them. I will seek and perhaps I shall find Richard Dorr for you!”

  “Go then! And I will go with you. I too can disguise myself.”

  “No, no; your absence will arouse comment. Moura will know then. If I go alone he will not even miss me, nor care. I must not see him; for then he will read what goes on in my mind. And you must try to keep him from reading your thoughts, though few can stand against him.”

  “Hurry then, and may God be with you!”

  “I like this God of yours, Dana Gleason. We of Tabora have no God; but if there is really such a spirit, let him look after you while I’m gone!”

  And the boy left on his self-imposed mission. A new hope had come into Dana Gleason’s heart. Did Dick but live! She was praying now to the God he had taught her to love. Now let Moura-tor attempt to win his case. He could never accomplish his purpose.

  To make this more certain, Dana Gleason, with a company of her guards-women and Dure, her slave girl, embarked for Ora, where she knew she would be safe from Moura-tor. Once before she had run away to escape a man, Howard Courtland.

  Moura realized that his purpose was thwarted for the time being, and though he sought Dana out at Ora, she laughed at him, taking care to keep her mind a blank so that the man could not read what hopes were there. She succeeded, and Moura returned to Doata none the wiser. A duit passed before Ubca returned. He came to Ora.

  “It is true, Dana Gleason. Richard Dorr lives!”

  A cry escaped her lips, and she sank into a faint. Frantically Dure and Ubca hastened to restore her. She revived, feeling embarrassed at her weakness. She demanded more news from Ubca, her heart singing within her bosom.

  Ubca’s eyes were mirrored with pain. He had learned a lot in Gora, and he was worried. He had discovered that Gora intended to make war upon Tabora, and that Richard Dorr was behind the movement. Still he was certain that Gora could not win, but there would be bloodshed. And he had not seen Richard Dorr in Gora because at the present time he was in Tabora!

  “I think,” said Ubca slowly, “I can find him for you, Dana Gleason, but to do so and not turn him over to my people would be criminal; for, without his leadership, Gora would not consider war against the Uriem (the death ray) of Tabora.”

  Dana was exultant when she learned that Dick was in Tabora, closer than before. She decided to return to Carajama immediately. She was certain that Dick would hear her name and come seeking her. “It is well,” she told Ubca, “that you do no more. Richard Dorr will come to me. Then I will persuade him to give up his attempt to bring the two races to war. Trust me, I will do all I can to avert it. Come, let us return to Carajama. But first we must let it be known throughout Tabora that Dana Gleason returns to Carajama, so that he will be sure to hear my name and know where to find me.”

  “I will attend to that,” Ubca agreed.

  In Carajama, Dana Gleason had a royal welcome. That night her palace was filled to overflowing with people of the court. She was happy, happier than she had been since her coming to Abrui. Her eyes glowed, and there was fresh color under her skin. Men did her homage that night, and the women were suddenly jealous. Moura-tor was absent, being out of the city for that evening.

  THE GREAT PLAN

  After the last guest had gone, Dana Gleason stood peering into the garden, anxious to make sure that her nook in the shrubberies had not been sought by anyone else. Dure came to her side. “My mistress,” she whispered, “I have news of Him!”

  “Him” meant but one person. She asked Dure for her news. “Your Richard Dorr is in the city now! He is here on a secret mission. His dealings are with the people of Moata alone. Mistress, he promises us freedom!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It is a wonderful plan! A plan by which we are to rise against our master (her voice was very low now) and join ourselves with our ancient ally the Gora. This Richard Dorr is a great person, mistress. The golden people already love him, as they hate the Tabora. You have been kind to your slaves, and they are anxious to return your kindness.

  “Tonight Richard Dorr will seek you out—in the bower!”

  Dure’s words had brought tears to Dana’s eyes, and now, without a word, she hurried out into the garden. Richard was waiting for her in the bower and she rushed into his arms. It was Dick, but a Dick transformed. His skin and hair were now as silvery as any Taboran’s, only his blue eyes were the same. For some time neither spoke, content only in each other’s nearness. Then they told each other the story of their experiences since their arrival on Abrui. Dorr had been picked up by the Gora more dead than alive. Thinking him one of their own, they revived him. On discovering that he had come out of the rocket, they would have killed him. But he had been taken to Kirada Yal for judgment. Yal saw in the Earthling the answer to a prophecy made centuries before—that there would come a stranger man, one who was like themselves yet unlike them, who would come wearing strange clothing, and with strange words on his lips, who would lead Gora back to the lands of which she had been deprived. So Richard Dorr was acclaimed to be the promised savior for whom they had been waiting.

  “Their plight is pitiful, my dear. They eke a mere pittance from a barren soil; they are always hungry, and have little to cover themselves with, and the Tabora kill them when they come to the borders to steal enough to feed their babies. So I have sworn to free them from this awful bondage! Nor are they the barbarians the Tabora make them out to be. They were civilized centuries before the Tabora. But in their struggle for existence they have no time to give to science; hence they are fast deteriorating into savagery.”

  “But, Dick, you can never fight against the Tabora. They have superior weapons, better brains!”

  “No, you are wrong, Dana Gleason! True, they have a better weapon, but I have discovered only today the secret that will make its power nil, and they have only this one weapon! They have not been at war for centuries, and I have just come out of a war. Remember I was an engineer during the war on Earth, and made it a point then to study artillery, too. No, Gora will win.”

  “Do you realize what you are doing, Dick, in bringing war to this planet? Have you and I not had enough war?”

  “That is not the question now. If there is no war now, there will be one later. And not until there is bloodshed can Gora have the comfort and ease of which she has been despoiled.

  “Oh, yes, there is a possibility of trade being established between the two races, but believe me, it will be Tabora who will get the best of the bargain. A diplomat by the name of Moura-tor came to Kirada Yal with promises. What are promises? Pieces of paper, treaties. Bah!

  “Naturally, I have thought all this over carefully. I do not like the matter of throwing this planet into warfare, but only through war can justice be done. Gora wants her place in the sun, facing the Sehti ocean. She and Moata will have that before I am done!

  “Surely you, Dana Gleason, cannot countenance one strong race lording it over another. True, Tabora has culture, a fine social order, great learning; but why must she have it alone? Why should not these other two races share and share alike? I have already been to Ora, where I was received kindly. The great minds there agree that I am right, that Tabora, Moata, and Gora should live peaceably side-by-side! Can you say differently?”

  Her silence was her answer. Then she told him of what Ubca-tor had done, the danger that Richard Dorr now had to guard against in Carajama. He laughed aside her fears. “They will do nothing to me, and were they to capture me, Dana, I should not be a prisoner long. Moata will stand by me as one man!” He gathered her in his arms again.

  “My work will be finished here in another day, and I shall return to Gora directly. Before I plunge Abrui into war, Tabora will be advised, but I am certain she will not agree to terms. Then it will be a war, a war that will not last more than a day or two! Then, my sweetheart, I will return for you.”

  “You will return for me …? What do you mean, Dick Dorr? You don’t think that you are going back to Gora without me?”

  “How can I take you back with me, Dana? It’s a hard road back, and Gora offers you none of the comfort you have here. No, you must wait!”

  The woman stared in wonder. “You are talking that way to me, Richard Dorr?” she demanded. “What do you think I have degenerated into? Have you forgotten who I am? Do you think that Dana Gleason has become a weakling? Why do you talk to me of comfort, of fearing a hard journey?”

  The man smiled. “I see you have not changed, Dana, but all the same I do not want you to suffer any more hardships—besides …”

  “Besides what?”

  “Well, my mission is a secret one, even though your Ubca-tor discovered me. Were I captured, I should be killed as a spy. And to take you back with me would most surely raise a hue and cry.”

  “And you think I cannot plan as well as you?” She laughed softly. “No, Dick, we were separated once. I won’t allow it to happen again! I have a slave girl who is my height, resembles me somewhat, and it will be easy, I am sure, to disguise her as myself, announce that I am returning to Ora, and then let her take my place. Several days will then elapse before the deception is discovered, and by then they will not know where to look for me.”

  “Good, then. That is settled. How much easier my work will be with you by my side!”

  The hours of night passed swiftly. Soft tendrils of light aroused them to the fact that Tradr was rising. They had one more caress. “We shall leave two nights hence! I will come again tomorrow night. Wait for me, my darling!” And he was gone. Slipping out of the garden, he appeared with the early risers as he descended to the lower city.

  PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS

  Dure was waiting for Dana. She had fallen asleep on the floor, but she awakened as she heard the light, happy steps of her mistress. She insisted that the woman lie down for several hours of sleep. She awoke later in a blithesome mood. With a smile she received Moura-tor, who had only just returned to Carajama.

  “I have only just heard that you had come back from Ora, Dana Gleason. Am I to take your return to mean that you have accepted me? You will go to court to register today your decision to marry me?”

  At his words, her happiness departed. She had forgotten Moura’s plans for her in her own joy of finding Richard Dorr. She must somehow stall Moura along until she was ready to depart with Richard Dorr. She was thinking this when she realized that she allowed her thoughts to escape her. In terror she looked into Moura’s eyes, and saw that he had indeed read what had passed through her mind. For the first time she saw the real man behind those cold glittering eyes. A short laugh escaped him.

  “So you thought to defeat Moura-tor, eh?” He laughed again. “Yes, I know your lover Richard Dorr is in Carajama. I, myself, have just returned from Gora. Here,” and he held forth a metal scroll, “is a treaty I have just drawn up with Kirada Yal.

  “For providing Gora with foodstuffs, clothing, and whatever necessities and luxuries she will demand, Gora in turn will permit our miners to take out precious metals from her unused mines. Airships will henceforth fly between Tabora and Gora. Educators, architects, and various workers will go into Gora to aid her in building up her country. Agriculturalists will study conditions there and do what they can to revive her barren soil. Yes, a brotherhood shall be established. And all that, my dear Dana Gleason, is the work of the man you shall mate—Moura-Ur-tor!”

  He allowed her to gather the full import of his words, then he continued: “And as for Richard Dorr … I also have a note signed by the Kirada that the Earthling is a renegade, a man who ruthlessly induced the Kirada to consider warring upon Tabora, deluding him into thinking that he could beat Tabora. I already have men searching for this Richard Dorr, and he shall be killed as a conspirator!”

  Dana Gleason from the first had doubted Moura’s word, as she had learned from experience to doubt him; but she could not submit to hear the last, for she knew that Moura meant what he was saying.

  “Moura,” she cried, “you wouldn’t dare to do that!”

  He smiled. “Moura-Ur-tor,” he said proudly, “dares whatever he wishes to dare, Dana Gleason. He knows not the word ‘No’!”

  “But, Moura, you have been my friend. Won’t you be my friend again? Won’t you save Richard Dorr for me? You have been my confidant. I have told you everything. Surely you would not be as cruel as to kill the man I love?”

  “Perhaps I wouldn’t, Dana Gleason—for a consideration.”

  She understood his implication as she muttered, “Are men the same the universe over?”

  “Yes, I sadly fear that they are. Well, is it to be your lover’s death or will you be my wife? Speak up, I cannot be kept waiting!”

  A sob escaped her throat. “All right, Moura-Ur-tor … they are right … you always have your own way. Come, I shall go with you immediately.”

  “Good.”

  Without another word he led her out, up the stairway to the Corona of Carajama, and into a small office in one of the government buildings. Here, before a magistrate, Dana Gleason swore she was ready to take Moura-Ur-tor to mate.