Leh heard it. His hunched figure in the doorway moved and his head nodded assent; and then he drew back, was gone.
"I will get you a cloak," Garga murmured abruptly.
She came with the cloak in a moment; a long, dark-grey garment of flexible metal. With this on, and with the helmet which Rhool had given him, Allen could pass for a Gort. Garga was eager, trembling, as she took him through a small side doorway. The nearby glowing city street bustled with activity. Garga and Allen were not challenged as they skirted the edge of the metal street; and presently came to a dark and narrow little bridge, a fifty foot catwalk-span over a chasm to the promontory head where the lookout kiosk stood dark and silent above the lagoon.
A new idea had come to Allen. As together they crossed the catwalk he murmured to Garga:
"The Master spoke of the Peters girl, and asked me if she is beautiful."
Garga smiled. "So? The Master is ironical always. He plays with you."
"Meaning what?"
"He has seen that girl many times. Ten years ago, when there was no threat of Tollgamo, he was in Arron. She was just a child then. He played with her. And he has loved her ever since."
They came to the kiosk, entered its dark interior. It was merely a roof over a circular metal bench, with a waist high railing. Thirty feet down, the sea inlet was a black ribbon of water. The yellow tunnel at the bottom of the opposite cliff was dark now, but further up the inlet there were lights and activity.
Allen sat with a hand gripping Garga's mailed arm. Across the background of his mind he was trying to plan ... he could seize this amourous woman's weapons. But then what? Would Leh be able to come here now? Leh, who had mentioned diving from here, with a way of escape from the inlet.