Hours later the three went back alone. Back to the lip of the radiant crater. In quietness they waited.
Toward dawn, like dark glistening moths out of the radiance, came a squadron of gyros. The leading craft spotted the figures below, dipped and came down. The others hovered in space, watchful. When the lead gyro landed, its door swung open and the red-cloaked Senior sprang out, flame gun ready.
The trio raised their arms in surrender. In a moment they were disarmed and hustled into the gyro. Their craft took the lead, rising high so the pull above the Barrier would be lessened. Even so it took master maneuvering to keep the ship steady till they were through.
Within the hour the Nyloplast dome came shimmering into view. At a signal over the communication system, the top-right section leading to the hangars slid open, and the gyros droned through. When they landed, the captives were prodded out of the hangar into the dazzling morning light reflected more brilliantly from the Nyloplast screen.
The hygienic whiteness of the city struck Allyn forcefully, as though he viewed it for the first time. They were led to a large, gleaming white building, into a high vaulted audience room. Straight ahead was the dais of marbleized seats where the Logicians met in Council. They sat there now, in full knowledge that Allyn would be in judgment before them. Metas, in skull cap and robes of judgment, sat in the center, regarding them with cold eyes.
Allyn lifted a hand in salute of respect.
The Council was silent.
Drawing a deep breath Allyn glanced once at Keeven and Marva who were flanked by watchful Gards. "I bring hope for our people," he began and quickly recounted his adventures past the Barrier.
The council listened dispassionately. With sinking heart Allyn realized his words were in vain. Numan belief in the animalism of Olman was too deep set. Mate with the beast! He saw the distaste in their expressions.