"Send him to me. The hour of the Deluge is at hand."
The Son with O'Hara and Nedra motioned them toward a second cylinder now sliding in from its tunnel. "You must go at once," he commanded. "But you alone, not the red-haired woman of the mountains."
And Nedra turned. "You promised me, O'Hara."
"I promised you," he said, watching the Son's atomic gun. He remembered then the sudden, vile extrusion of the belching fire upon the mountain's side. It would happen easily. And now that it was here at last, his reluctance was gone—there was no fear, only an exaltation that was blinding to him, the first quick phase of death. "Are you ready, Nedra?"
"Yes," she said, and turning, drew her arms around him. "Now—"
The voice came booming through the hall. "O'Hara! Wait!"
And in that instant those among the Sons close to them crouched.
"Send both of them to me," the voice commanded, and the light upon the mirror gained intensity, becoming pure incandescence. "Send both of them," the voice repeated. "Will you put away your weapon now, O'Hara?"
He faced the light. "Only when we go together."
"You must go together into the Tube at once. The Sons will not hinder you."