"The gods are dead—the Ancients."
"Suppose one of them came back?"
Willard caught his breath. "What do you mean?"
"Originally the robots were controlled telepathically. Why can't that work now—for us?"
"Don't you imagine I thought of that? But it's no use, without one of them helmet-transmitters. And there aren't any...." Willard sucked in his breath. "Hold on! I'd forgotten something. There's one transmitter left—just one. But it's not a portable."
"Swell!"
"Wait a minute. Come over here." The older man led the way to a tripod-projector, found a cylindrical black object, and slipped it into place. "Look at this."
Peering through the eye-pieces, Garth recognized the great cavern with the dais at one end. The scene shifted, showing the gigantic twelve-foot robot sitting on its throne, a solid block of black metal.
"Watch," Willard said.
A voice spoke in Garth's mind, in the Ancient Tongue. "It was necessary to impress the superstitious Zarno. Thus we created this robot god and placed it on its throne. Its radioatomic brain can be controlled telepathically by means of a transmitter concealed within the throne."