"Reveal!" exploded Nyo Karth angrily. "Reveal! Yes, that's what I will do. I will take it to the council. You are as insane as the poor blind mastodons who work like maggots in the mines, whose eyes would be blasted by a mere ray of the very light for which they were originally intended. I will demand this madness be erased from your brain. I will demand punishment, as your misdemeanor calls for. I will show them that I stand for justice, even to a son."
Suddenly he paused. Again a strange glowing of spy-rays pulsed through the room. And then a furious clangor sounded from without. A mental-wave beat through the barrier.
"Open up! Open up!" It demanded in strident mental tones. "In the name of the Council of Seven!"
Ilon felt beaten. His father leaped toward him. His eyes blazed into his own, and a command leaped out.
"Resist them! Resist them!"
"But father—"
"Resist them, fool, before they open a way into the room. After all, I can't turn you over to them!"
"But father—if they should discover you, a Galax-Mentor—"
Then a wave of relief swept Ilon. Gladly he built up a mental force that was thrust around them like a shell. He felt it weaving a network of resistance, felt it clash with outer forces demanding entrance. The outer mental cries weakened and vanished momentarily. It would not be for long, Ilon knew. The spies, realizing something was amiss, would go for help. When they returned, the bombardment would be strengthened to the point where resistance would be futile.
"Quick!" commanded old Nyo. "Get the silver sphere, Ilon."