The city came into view, a sheer grotesquerie of impossible buildings jutting crazily into space. However, as they came nearer, it was apparent that many of them were abandoned.
They passed through a long street and entered a building which Kueelo seemed to know well. He was familiar with everything here, Ric thought—too familiar! They came into a room where a man sat at a table, poring over charts and figures. He looked up, greeted Kueelo and Naric by name.
"This is Tal Horan, and the Princess Praana!" Kueelo said, the pride of accomplishment in his voice. "We have done better than we supposed! And this one is Ric Martin, who foolishly came into space to warn Dar Mihelson."
While Kueelo was telling his story, Ric watched this Phobian leader, Gorak, who was as ghastly a character as he had ever seen. Pallid, with a bluish tinge, the man stood well over six feet tall, but his body seemed frail. His head was absurdly large, quite hairless and glistening. The colorless, lidless eyes were not nice to look into. He watched the others, especially Praana, with those cold eyes as Kueelo talked.
"So. The Princess Praana," Gorak said at last, and his thin gash of a mouth parted in a grin, revealing brownish teeth. "But are you quite sure, Kueelo? I seem to remember her differently, in the tele-magnum."
"I am quite sure, Gorak. It was Bedril's wish that she disguise herself."
Gorak nodded, never once taking those lidless orbs from Praana. "You have done well, Kueelo. She will serve as a most valuable pawn. And this other—Tal Horan. Is he not the metallurgist who worked with Bedril?"
"Yes, and I'm sure he must have their formula for the Counter-active! They were working in the right direction, just as we...."
Gorak held up a hand. He surveyed Tal Horan coldly from head to foot, and Tal returned the gaze unflinchingly. Then Gorak's gaze lingered on Tal's right hand. He spoke without emotion.