Against two strong and determined foes Steve Duane was helpless. A few minutes later, bleeding and disheveled, hands lashed to his sides with coils upon coils of biting plastic cord, he stood staring defiantly at his captors.
"Very well," he groaned. "I am Stephen Duane, one of the Slumberers. The masquerade is over and this scene of our little playlet is done. But the curtain has not yet fallen on the last act. Though I die, what I have fought for lives on. Others like myself will rise after me. And I tell you now, proud Overlords of Earth, the day will surely come when humanity shall overthrow your tyrannies as mankind ever in the past has destroyed those who set themselves up in omnipotence.
"And as for you, von Rath—" He turned blazing eyes to the German, smirking out of combat range—"if ever again these bonds are stricken from my hands, those hands will surely throttle the breath from your black throat."
Von Rath laughed uneasily.
"That is a vow you will never keep, mein Leutnant. The Daans, like myself, are realists. They are too clever to allow an avowed enemy to exist. We understand each other, I and they. Meanwhile, for your insolence—"
And he took a step forward, arm lifted to strike the bound prisoner before him. But the Lady Loala stayed his gesture with a command.
"Stop, earthman! Presume not over-much on your newly-won favor. The Daans need no human aid in handling their captives. Begone about your business until you are sent for."
The German wilted before her gaze. With a muttered apology he slunk away. Then turned the Lady Loala to her one-time favorite, and though she spoke imperiously still, her tone was edged with the faintest note of regret.
"Now this is a mad thing you have done, Steve of Emmeity," she said. "Have you no wisdom? Were you not content to leave things as they were?"