Ross nodded. "Maybe. But there's no other chance. Horta can knock us down out of the air, and he's knocking Earth cities to dust. He must be stopped. If we die, you can hold out on the Peaks, and flood him out when the rains come."
"That's right, Artana," Moore agreed. "But let me go, Chief. I'll take a couple of good men. You stay here."
"No dice, Harry," Ross assured him firmly. "I'm the head man and it's my job. I'd like to have you along, though."
"Sure," said Moore mildly.
Artana regarded them with admiration. "You are brave men! But what can I do?"
"Just sit tight, Artana, and wait for the rain to fall," grinned Moore. "And when it comes, avenge us."
"That will I!" swore Artana.
They set out in the dark, Moore and Ross and the guide whom Artana had indicated with a gesture. They had covered only half a mile when Ross turned sharply, suspiciously, to the guide. "Sure you speak the Earth tongue?" he demanded. "If you do, why can't you say something?"
The guide threw back the cowl-like head covering and Ross caught his breath. "Illeria! What are you doing on this tour?"