as in charge of the expedition, not Smel Ven."
     "The destruction of  Faena has  deprived me of memory and reason.  What
are you counting on, Ala Veg?"
     "On Terr's Faetians. They won't abandon us. But first, Mrak  Luton must
be removed."
     Brat Lua was listening to the women in dismay.
     "Then  let the gentle Ala Veg be chief  of the station,"  proposed Lada
Lua.
     "On no account!" screamed Nega Luton.
     "Calm  yourself,  once distinguished  lady.  I am not  making  any such
claim.  The chief of the station must be the  one who shows the Faetians the
way to a future existence."
     "Who can do that except my husband?"
     "The insignificant Mrak Luton is only capable of threats. He can't even
bring  himself to shoot anyone now because  he's  afraid for  his fat belly.
He's just a stinker, and certainly not the leader of the future Marians."
     "Marians?"
     "Yes,  Marians, that  is,  the  Faetians  who will live  on Mar in  the
underground cities planned by Brat Lua."
     "Aren't  you  trying  to  say  that  the  station  chief  should  be  a
roundhead?" said Nega Luton, outraged.
     "What good fortune that the Lutons can't leave any descendants on Mar,"
said Ala Veg with unconcealed contempt.
     "You aren't thinking of leaving any descendants, are you, Ala  Veg? And
with whose help?"
     "Shut up, you viper! I've lost three children and a husband; all you've
lost is your conscience."
     "I refuse to  agree that Mrak  Luton should have his post taken over by
someone else."
     "Then off you  go, join  your husband  and think the matter  over  with
him."
     "I haven't finished my dinner."
     "You can finish dining at table with him ... tomorrow. If you have both
changed your minds."
     "That is force!.."
     "Brat  Lua,"  said Ala Veg,  turning to the released Faetian. "We elect
you chief of the station.  We will now get in touch with the people on Phobo
and find out how they have been faring.  We  shall all beseech Quest to come
and fetch us."
     "Quest  can only set us down on the surface of Mar," said Brat Lua.  "I
will  shoulder all  the worry  and responsibility. The  Faetian race and its
civilisation  must be preserved.  I've  long had projects  for installations
that,  given  the  efforts of  all  surviving  Faetians,  can be  brought to
fulfilment."
     The little Faetian stood solemnly before the Faetesses as he  undertook
this new mission.
     After a moment's thought, he added:
     "However, everything will depend on whether the Faetians of Quest agree
to abandon  the bountiful and flourishing Terr and undergo  fresh  hardships
and perils to rescue us."
     "I shall implore them!" cried Ala Veg.
     "No one will risk losing happiness," said Nega Luton. "There's no sense
in Brat Lua being chief. No  one will fly to the station, no one will  ferry
us to the surface of Mar."
     "Not  everybody  there  is as  soft-hearted as  the  gentle  Sister  of
Health," said Lada Lua.
     Nega  Luton  bristled  with indignation.  How  dare this  insignificant
roundhead talk about  her like that? But she pulled herself up at once. Lada
was now the wife of the new station chief, so Nega Luton controlled herself.
     "It's just that I'm  worried  about us  all," she muttered  through her
teeth in self-justification.
     "It's  nearly  time  for  the  electromagnetic communications session,"
announced Ala Veg.
     She left the common cabin and made for the observatory.
     When she  sat down at  the  control panel, she  saw in front of her the
silvery bullet with the sharp brown prickles.  She picked  it up gingerly by
the blunt end and threw it into the rubbish chute through which it would end
up in space.
     The signal lamp lit up, indicating a call.
     "Poor Toni Fae!  He thinks  he's called  Deimo for the last time," said
Ala Veg aloud, although there was no one near her.
     Brat Lua walked into the observatory and announced:
     "Mrak Luton  has just informed us  over the intercom that he has agreed
to  relinquish  his post as station chief in return for the dinner he didn't
have time to finish."
     "Even his own greedy stomach's against him," replied Ala Veg.
     "As the new chief, I  shall have to take part in the  session with  the
Faetians of Quest on Terr."
     "Allow  me  to open  the  session,  Brat  Lua.  I'll try to put  it  as
convincingly as possible."
     "The first word is yours," agreed the new chief.
     The signal lamp began winking on the control panel.
     Ala Veg switched the apparatus on.

     Chapter Three

        IN THE NAME OF REASON

     Stooping  and breathing  heavily.  Dm  Sat  lowered  himself  into  the
armchair before the control  panel. His  wrinkled face  with its bushy white
beard had  sagged noticeably, his eyes were deeply sunken, but  watched with
their  former close and sad attention. He asked Toni Fae, for the benefit of
those who had come back from the forest, to re-run the recording of the last
communications  session. Ala Veg's chesty voice was heard in  the cabin once
again.
     "Quest!  Quest!  Quest! Faetians of Terr!  Your brothers  and  sisters,
abandoned on an  artificial speck of dust  amid the stars, are crying out to
you for help. Around us is the cold and infinite emptiness of space. We have
no solid  ground  under  our  feet, we  are feeding  on  the  produce of the
greenhouse,  which  is  being destroyed  by  endless  showers  of  particles
discharged  by the explosion of Faena.  We shall not survive here unless you
come to our  rescue. Quest! Quest!  Quest! Faetians  of Quest! Remember that
you are of the same flesh and blood as those who gave life to you and to us!
Fly to us in your ship, which  we consider ours also. Fly to us  in the name
of  the love  which shall  forever  be  the  beginning  of  the  future  and
everlasting  life. The Faetians  must  not perish!  Help us in  the  name of
Reason, whose heritage we must preserve. Quest! Quest! Quest!"
     Ala Veg's voice fell silent.
     The Faetians exchanged glances. Um  Sat glanced  inquiringly at Ave Mar
and Gor Terr.
     Gor Terr went up to Toni Fae and  rested his enormous hand on the other
man's shoulder.
     "My friend Toni Fae," he said, as if his decision was the only one that
mattered.  "The appeal  by our brothers and sisters from Deimo will r-remain
bitter and unanswered, and it will break our hearts. I think we ought not to
maintain electromagnetic communications with space any more."
     "What?" cried Mada, outraged.  "Turn  our backs  on our own people when
they're in trouble?"
     "We can't help them,"  Gor Terr tried to say as gently as possible. "If
we  flew to the station, we would just be parasites, using up all their food
and oxygen."
     "But  they're hoping Quest will put them down  on the surface  of Mar,"
protested Toni Fae.
     "Alas!" continued Gor  Terr  gloomily.  "That's  as  impossible as  our
r-resettlement on Deimo.  We could fly  as far as the space station, but the
ship hasn't got enough fuel for a braked landing on Mar."
     With  a  column  of  figures written  on  a plastic  tablet,  Gor  Terr
convincingly demonstrated the  impossibility  of  flying to the Faetians  on
Station Dei mo.
     Ave Mar, Toni  Fae  and Mada understood everything  perfectly. Only  Um
Sat,  apparently,  could not wait until the engineer had finished. He took a
turn  for the worse and had to be put to bed in the control cabin this time.
Mada fussed about him, trying to bring him round.
     Water was needed. There wasn't any,  since the reserve supply  had been
used up. More would have to be fetched up from below.
     When  he had brought some  water, Gor Terr  began  insisting that  they
should all move into the house, which was now ready.
     "The forest air is more likely to cure the Elder," he affirmed.
     It was  decided  that  Toni should  stay behind  at the  communications
apparatus. At the next session, he could inform the Faetians  on Deimo  that
they could not possibly be reached on Quest.
     Toni  Fae  was brooding silently.  Mada feared  for him. She  carefully
locked up the dispensary so that he wouldn't be able  to get his hands on an
ampoule of stupefying  gas and she made Ave Mar collect  up all the poisoned
bullets.
     Sadly,  as if saying goodbye  to their  ship  forever,  the  astronauts
climbed down the vertical ladder leading out of the lower airlock.
     Um Sat,  whom they wanted  to carry refused to be  helped  and actually
went down the ladder himself with Mada supporting him.
     The path that  the Faetians took as they carried the  various gear from
the ship turned slippery. Gor Terr nearly fell down.
     "Don't stray off the tr-rack," he warned anxiously.
     The building with its sloping roof appeared among the trees.
     In  his  time, Ave  Mar, accustomed to the round  buildings of  Danjab,
would have thought  the house ugly, but the change from a round rocket to  a
rectangular structure now seemed right. He even sighed with relief; they had
a refuge for long cycles of their forthcoming life.
     Suddenly, a tawny shadow darted across the window.
     Ave Mar  gripped  Gor  Terr by  the arm.  He too had  noticed something
suspicious and he  headed determinedly for  the house. The door  had not yet
been made.
     On the threshold, Gor Terr collided with an enormous Faetoid with bared
fangs. He charged at it, unaware that this was Dzin showing her teeth in the
semblance of a smile. He  grabbed the uninvited guest by the paw and  nimbly
threw  her over his  shoulder so that she landed on some tree-stumps nearby.
She jumped up and fled howling into the forest.
     In this way, an "attack" by Faetoids on the house was beaten off.
     The Faetians went through the doorway.
     Gor Terr  screwed up his  nose in distaste. There  was an animal stench
inside.
     Mada opened the windows to air the place.
     "Home at last," she said with relief.
     'Tarn afraid,"  said  Um Sat,  "that for a long  time the Faetians will
have to prove that this is their home."
     "Just let those filthy beasts try to barge in again!" roared Gor Terr.
     "I was afraid you  were  going to kill our uninvited  guest," confessed
Ave Mar.
     "I would  have done so, if I hadn't thought it was Dzin. We  owe her so
much."
     "Dzin?" asked Mada, on the alert "Really?"
     "Settle yourselves in," suggested Gor Terr. "I'll go to meet  Ton! Fae,
otherwise he might be met by someone else."
     Mada  smiled as he  left. Such friendship between Faetians was a joy to
her.
     Ave began fashioning a  door,  skilfully  wielding a home-made axe. The
Faetoids  might attack  the sleeping Faetians in the night As he  barred the
windows and the door, he wondered  what the future held  in  store for  them
all:  it would be bleak enough  if they had to  live in a permanent state of
siege.
     When  the  windows had been barred with  stakes, the atmosphere  in the
house had a depressing effect on Mada. As she watched the imperturbable Ave,
however, she too was filled with confidence.
     Twilight was deepening. Mada felt uneasy as she  thought about Toni Fae
and  Gor  Terr. The  fate of the faraway Faetians on Deimo also gave  her no
peace of mind. How she wished that all the survivors could be together!
     Mada peered out  of the window  through the stakes. It was totally dark
in the forest. Tired after his walk, Um Sat was sound asleep. Mada had given
him a whiff of stupefying gas from an ampoule.
     Ave was admiring his newly-made door, rough-hewn,  but solid. He locked
it for the first time.
     Mada looked at it regretfully.
     "Ave, wasn't  it  you  who  said  that the Faetians  must  preserve the
civilisation of their ancestors?"
     "Of course, and I shall go on saying it."
     "Then how is it that we,  as carriers of civilisation, could abandon in
space the Faetians who are so  close to us? Is there no way of bringing them
to join us? If we could only find fuel here!.."
     Ave Mar heaved a sad sigh.
     "Even  the fuel we  found  here wouldn't help. We  wouldn't  be able to
process it the  way they used to in Faena's fuel workshops. Where are we  to
get all the pipes and distil ling spheres?"
     "Surely Engineer Gor Terr will think of something?"
     "Hardly..."
     "Couldn't  we  fly  to  Deimo  and  all  work  together  to  extend the
greenhouse, improve  the machinery and still  live together?  I'm afraid  of
staying here  on a  hostile planet. It's not at  all what  it seemed on that
first day. D'you remember the watering place, with the baby reindeer and the
beast of prey drinking together in peace? But now?"
     The door opened with a creak. Mada jumped up and seized Ave by the arm.
Gor Terr was standing in the doorway. He moved aside  to  admit a distraught
and dejected Toni Fae.
     Mada rushed over to him, clasped him to her breast and began sobbing.
     "Was there a session?" asked Ave Mar.
     Trying to control himself, Toni Fae replied:
     "It would  have been better to die than  hear  the answer that  Ala Veg
came out with when she heard our refusal."
     "R-refusal? It's an impossibility!" interrupted Gor Terr.
     "She was sobbing.  Sobs have never been broadcast over the air  before.
It was too much. Only why did Mada take the yellow ampoule from me?.."
     "Calm  yourself,  my  dear Toni Fae. I'll give  you a  whiff from  that
ampoule in a moment. Look how well Dm Sat is sleeping."
     "But how can I sleep in peace if out there, on Deimo, Ala Veg has given
up all hope and has lost faith in  the power  of love? I  would fly  to  her
without a second thought."
     Ave and Mada exchanged glances.
     Mada  gently calmed Toni Fae  down. Sitting  by the window  stakes, Gor
Terr was plunged in gloom. The damp came wafting in from  the forest. It had
started raining again. The Faetians couldn't  possibly have imagined so much
water coming  down from the sky.  There had never been anything  like it  on
Faena.
     Toni dozed off, but tossed and turned, moaning in his sleep.
     Ave Mar squatted down  at the rough-hewn table, took a split branch and
began making marks on it.
     Gor Terr,  his  shoulders hunched, was still sitting by the window.  He
looked like a huge boulder. He was asleep.
     Exhausted by all she' had  been  through during the  day, Mada  settled
down on some bedding  not  far from Dm  Sat and Toni  Fae, who were sleeping
side by side.
     Ave Mar was doing his best to save the batteries for the portable lamp.
He switched it off and lit a taper which he had improvised out of a resinous
splinter similar to the one he had split to make a tablet.
     The rain finally stopped in the morning, the wind dispersed the  clouds
and Sol peeped into the  Faetians'  new  house. A  mother-of-pearl  footpath
showed through the trees, the water on it shimmering.
     Mada,  barely  awake  and  already  busy  with  the  household  chores,
instantly noticed a change in Ave.
     Gor Terr was in a bad mood.
     Mada  offered  everyone  some  plain food,  economising  in  the stores
brought from the ship.
     "If only you'd heard her voice," said Toni Fae to no one in particular.
     Gor Terr exploded.
     "They're selfish! All they think about is themselves. Who gave them the
r-right to  demand such a sacrifice of  us  as the r-re-fusal to live  on  a
bountiful planet? And they're the ones who tried to blow up a space  station
like their own! If I was  deciding whether  we should fly to them or  not, I
wouldn't allow it!"
     Mada  was  frightened  to  detect a familiar  ring in his booming  bass
voice.
     Toni Fae looked dismally at his friend.
     'They're  not all  in the wrong.  We've  got to distinguish between the
station chief, the  Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard, and  Ala Veg and the
roundhead Luas, neither of whom is in the least to blame."
     "And  there are some Faetians on Phobo who aren't in the least to blame
either," interposed Mada.
     "No matter how many  of  them  there may be,  how  can we possibly help
them?" snapped Gor Terr.
     "It's not quite like that," intervened Ave suddenly.
     All turned to  look at  him.  Even Dm  Sat,  lying on a  bench near the
table, tried to raise himself on one elbow.
     "I did  some calculations during the night Gor  Terr,  as  an engineer,
could verify them."
     "A specialist on  elementary particles has been checking  the  engineer
who designed the spaceship Quest?" inquired Gor Terr darkly.
     "Excuse me, Gor Terr, but I've been going through your calculations and
I found them correct"
     "Well, well!.. I'm so glad," said Gor Terr, heaving a sigh of relief.
     "What a pity!" responded Toni Fae.
     "Even so, Gor Terr's calculations can be taken further."
     "R-really?" Gor Terr looked sharply round at Ave Mar.
     "His calculations were based on the assumption that all the Faetians of
Quest must fly to Deimo."
     "But of course! How can we possibly split up?" exclaimed Mada.
     "Only by doing that could we save the civilisation of Faena."
     "Let Ave clarify his idea," requested Dm Sat.
     "To  economise in fuel for Quest, only two of us must go up in her, not
five. Then the remainder of the fuel  plus the reserves of fuel on Deimo and
Phobo will enable us to deliver the Faetians on the  space stations  to Mar.
Quest, of course, will not be able to return to Terr."
     "Which means," shouted Toni Fae, "that only one Faetian can go with the
pilot Gor Terr!"
     "Ave Mar can also fly the ship,"  commented  Gor Terr. "After all, he's
been fighting so hard for the preservation of Faena's culture."
     Mada looked at her husband in alarm.
     "I haven't  had the time to discuss  it with Mada, but she can  express
her opinion now.
     In the name of Reason, I am prepared to stay on Terr if Mada stays with
me. True, after Quest has gone, we'll be living like savages who  will  from
then on have to make axes and arrowheads out of stone."
     "I am prepared to stay with my Ave," said Mada, "as I would be prepared
to fly with him to Deimo."
     "Then  I  can  fly with Gor Terr!"  whispered Toni Fae with unconcealed
joy.
     "No,"  objected Ave firmly. "If a great sacrifice has to be made in the
name of Reason, then the continued  Faetian  civilisation on Mar can only be
headed by Faena's Great Elder, Urn Sat, its first man of learning."
     Toni Fae buried his head in his hands.
     Dm Sat looked at him with compassion and said:
     "I am old and ill.  Is it worth counting on  me when you speak of a new
civilisation on Mar?"
     "Surely it  is not for  a Great  Elder  to live like a  savage  in  the
primeval forest?" objected Ave. "That is the lot of the younger ones."
     "I agree to anything," said Toni Fae in a dead voice.
     "I swear it's not going to be like that!" Gor Terr  suddenly banged his
fist on the  table.  "Urn  Sat  will, of  course, fly  on Quest to head  the
civilisation of the Marians.  They'll have  to apply  the  technology of the
space stations. Without technology, the  Marians won't survive. However,  it
is not Engineer Gor Terr  who will fly to Mar  with the great scientist, but
his fr-riend Toni Fae."
     "But I can't fly spaceships!" exclaimed the agitated Toni Fae.
     Mada looked admiringly at Gor Terr.
     "I'm  r-right, am I not?" continued Gor Terr. "Those who stay behind on
Terr won't have it any easier than the ones flying  to Mar. They'll have  to
fight for  every step they take  in  this confounded  forest. Toni Fae would
find it hard protecting the family of Ave and Mada here."
     "But I can't fly spaceships," repeated Toni Fae sadly.
     "You'll learn. Let the  first university also start  work in this first
house, knocked  together on Terr. It will have only one student,  but  three
professors: the gr-reat  scientist Um  Sat, his celebrated pupil Ave Mar and
the modest engineer, Gor Terr."
     "Two  professors will eventually become savages," said  Ave Mar with  a
smile. "Gor Terr has just shown us what true friendship is. I will undertake
to help Toni Fae in every way so that he can fly to Deimo with Um Sat"
     The Elder rose from his bench.
     "However hard the history of future generations of  Terrans and Marians
may be, it is a good thing that it begins with such noble sentiments!"
     Tears were trickling down the old man's wrinkled face.
     There was never a more terrible day than the one when Quest had to lift
off from Terr for space.
     Left behind on Terr, Ave Mar, Mada and Gor Terr tried not to  show what
it cost them to see the others off.
     The giant rocket loomed above the forest like a pointed tower. The last
farewells were imminent.
     The  Elder embraced in turn each of the two sturdy, strong Faetians who
were staying behind on the alien planet. Would they be able to survive?
     Then  Mada came up to him.  Resting  her  head on his white  beard, she
raised her  head and said something.  The Elder drew  her close to  him  and
kissed her hair.
     "Does Ave Mar know about it yet?"
     "No, not yet," replied Mada.
     "May Reason remain to live on in your descendants!"
     Ave Mar, who had just come up, understood everything without having  to
be told. He hugged his wife in gratitude.
     When Um  Sat followed  by  Toni  Fae, climbed with  difficulty  up  the
vertical ladder, he looked round and called:
     "At least teach them how to write!"
     Gor Terr understood and smiled bitterly.
     "They'll have to learn  hunting,  not writing.  And  how  to make stone
axes!"
     The Elder disappeared through the hatch.
     As the engines fired, the three Faetians moved away from the rocket and
raised their  hands in a last  farewell.  They were seeing off forever those
who, in  the  name of Reason, were taking  away  with  them the  heritage of
Faetian civilisation.
     Clouds of black smoke burst out from under the rocket.
     In the dense  forest,  the trees were dotted with shaggy Faetoids. With
malignant curiosity, they  watched their two-legged  victims, who were to be
eaten in the gully.
     The strongest of the Faetoids would seize the hairless ones and not let
them return to their "cave without rocks".
     Suddenly, under  the smooth stone  tree into which two of  the hairless
ones had disappeared, such  a terrible thunder roared that even the fiercest
of the Faetoids fell from their branches. Then,  from under the smooth stone
tree, black  clouds billowed  forth, as before the water falling from above,
and flames gushed forth.
     The beasts fled helter-skelter in all directions.
     The  path  to  the house of  the  depleted  Faetians  on  Terr had been
cleared.
     This  time  they  were able  to return to  their refuge, not suspecting
that, in  dispersing their enemies, their departed friends had rendered them
their last service.


     Chapter Four

        SPIDERS IN AJAR

     After  picking  up  all  the  Faetians  from  Station Deimo, Quest  was
approaching Phobo. An increasingly brilliant star was already conspicuous in
the porthole.
     Vydum Polar, Phobo's engineer, had become the new station chief.
     When  the disintegration  war began on  Faena and when Phobo  and Deimo
each sent out two  torpedoes, the young Faetians  on Phobo, insisting  on  a
peaceful  visit by spaceship  to Deimo and outraged by  the station  chief's
conduct, had replaced Dovol Sirus even before the  destruction  of Faena and
before communicating with Deimo about the changes on Phobo.
     Dovol Sirus had  not resisted.  He  had  even willingly surrendered his
powers to Vydum Polar, believing that at last he was going to get some peace
of mind and all his worries  would be shouldered  by  the inventor. He  was,
however, cruelly mistaken.
     Quest flew to Phobo with all  Deimo's Faetians and with Dm Sat and Toni
Fae from Terr.
     Vydum  Polar  and  Ala  Veg had to  sit with  Dm Sat in  order to  pass
judgement on the war  criminals. Um Sat named  them as  the Lutons and Dovol
Sirus.
     The concave  cabin  walls  were hung with landscapes of  Faena-forests,
meadows, rivers, towns and seas that did not exist any more.
     Terrified and outraged, totally unprepared for such a state of affairs,
the accused  sat before the judges on a black bench and  behind, against the
silvery walls, stood all the Faetians left in space.
     The space station always turned on its axis. The gigantic sphere of Mar
kept appearing in  the  portholes and floating away  again  with  inexorable
regularity.  The baleful,  reddish-brown  colours  of  the planet during the
strange,  swift-passing night alternated in the cabin  with the daytime glow
of Sol.
     Um  Sat  proved  to  be a  Faetian  with a will  of iron. He  had  been
seriously ill on Terr  and  had only fully recovered  on the  journey.  Now,
enormously  tall,  white-haired  and white-bearded, he had  vigorously taken
charge of the Faetian colony. The first thing he had done was to put the war
criminals  of space  on trial. He  now sat calmly at the table, rhythmically
tapping it with his finger.
     The  interrogation began. Vlasta  Sirus,  smirking nastily,  put  up an
evasive and spirited resistance.
     "The self-appointed court has no right to try us. There are no  laws in
space and you cannot pass sentence."
     "The law is the will of the Faetians here,"  replied Um Sat firmly. His
knitted brows boded ill for  the accused.  He  glanced significantly  at the
landscapes in their frames, which were now black in token of mourning.
     The  old scientist inspired Vydum Polar with great  respect. He did not
look like the other men of learning who had refused to recognise him. On the
contrary,  Um  Sat  was  interested in  Vydum's inventions  and  immediately
invited him to implement Brat Lua's project.
     In spite  of  her assumed arrogance, Vlasta  Sirus had the shivers. She
looked pathetic, although her tone of voice was defiant.
     "Then look for  war criminals among  the chiefs of the  space stations,
not among the serving girls."
     These words aroused  general laughter among the Faetians,  who knew the
real part played by Phobo's greenhouse nursery-woman.
     General Dovol Sirus, gasping at the  insult to his wife,  was forced to
confirm that the decision to  send torpedoes  to Deimo had been suggested by
Vlasta.  When he was being questioned, he  would hastily  jump to  his feet,
though with  an effort. He was  now  very annoyed, emphasising this in every
possible way.
     "I can only be condemned for weakness  of  character  in my family life
and  not  for my military  actions. I  am  only  a Faetian  businessman.  My
general's rank  was  conferred  on me for the  trade-mark  of the  munitions
workshops. As a Faetian businessman, I was intending to acquire territory on
Mar so as to sell plots of land at a profit to the Faetian settlers." And he
smiled trustingly.
     "Whom did  you force to  prime the disintegration torpedoes?" asked Ala
Veg bluntly.
     "I primed them myself."
     "Was it safe?" asked Ala Veg, pursuing her inquiry further.
     "Absolutely. The warheads were well screened to prevent radiation."
     "So at no risk to yourself,  you took measures to  destroy Deimo?"  Ala
Veg was remorselessly driving the accused into a corner.
     "I had to come to terms with fear. I mean above all my fear of my wife,
Vlasta Sirus," replied Dovol Sirus, wiping the  perspiration  from his  bald
patch.
     "I was right  not to  trust the  Faetians on  Deimo," interposed Vlasta
Sirus. "They were the first to try and destroy our Phobo."
     "But wasn't Vlasta Sirus plotting  the same move against  Deimo?" asked
Vydum Polar, coming forward.
     Vlasta Sirus  glared from under close-knit black eyebrows with contempt
at her failure of a son-in-law who had dared to condemn her.
     "War isn't a picnic," she said defiantly.
     "Did the accused  really  not know of the Agreement on  Peace in  Outer
Space?" Um Sat reminded her, calmly pouring himself some water and motioning
to Dovol Sirus that he could sit down.
     "How could that  be known  to a  simple nurserywoman who was serving in
space for the benefit of the Faetians?" said Vlasta, lowering her eyes.
     At this point, even her meek spouse jumped up again and shouted:
     "All of us here knew about it!"
     "Then why did  you lay in torpedoes  for the station?" inquired Ala Veg
nastily, looking the former chief of Phobo straight in the eye.
     "The  Faetians on Deimo  couldn't be trusted." And  Dovol Sirus  smiled
disarmingly at her again.
     "And what has the former chief of  Deimo, Supreme Officer of  the Blood
Guard Mrak Luton, to say about his misbehaviour?" asked Um Sat.
     Mrak Luton rose heavily to his feet.
     "I, at least, don't vegetate  under someone's  heel.  I am a soldier. I
was carrying out the orders given  to me. Here is an order from Dictator Yar
Jupi.  I  was  under  obligation  to  carry  it  out  in  the  event   of  a
disintegration war. I cannot be condemned for my integrity as a soldier. The
one to blame  is certainly not me, his  officer, but  Yar Jupi  himself, who
violated an order  he had signed  in person." Mrak  Luton laid  the  written
tablets down on the table.
     "Mrak Luton, did you know that the warhead was not screened and that it
was  lethally  dangerous to  be anywhere near  it;  yet  you still drove  my
husband Tycho Veg to certain death?"
     Mrak Luton grinned and shrugged his fat shoulders.
     "An officer sent his soldier ahead in battle. There was a war on."
     "The  reference to war is  irrelevant," observed Um Sat.  "It shouldn't
happen on a planet, much less in space, for war is an unjustifiable crime."
     "Even if it is defensive?" asked Mrak Luton challengingly.
     "A  disintegration  weapon  is  an  attack  weapon.  It  can  never  be
defensive."
     "The inventor  of the  disintegration weapon,  of course, has a clearer
idea of what to call  it," commented Vlasta Sirus  maliciously.  "Perhaps it
would  be  more correct to  condemn the one who created this weapon, not the
ones who were forced to use it! But he is passing judgement!" And she sighed
heavily with affected bitterness.
     "Very well, then!  Condemn me, Um  Sat, scientist  of matter, because I
made my  discovery public on two continents  simultaneously, hoping that the
fear  of exterminating all living things would prevent the insanity of wars;
condemn me because I did not ban dangerous knowledge  as I would do now. But
those who, after surviving in space, used that knowledge to harm others-they
should answer for their crimes."
     The Elder  had remained  true to himself. As  before,  he had not  been
learned in the profundities of the soul; he still thought that it was enough
to punish the guilty and ban dangerous  knowledge for all time so that  evil
would be averted. But he was the oldest of the survivors, no one could doubt
his  integrity,  and  so  he  was  putting   on  trial  those  guilty  of  a
disintegration war in  space. An unfamiliar harshness rang in his voice  and
his eyes burned darkly.
     Vlasta Sirus cringed at his words as if she were being whipped.
     It was hard to tell from  the faces of the judges what was in store for
the accused.
     Unlike Vlasta  Sirus, Nega Luton was completely crushed at being judged
by Ala Veg, of all people!..
     Lada Lua came up to the judges'  table. She was embarrassed  and didn't
know what to do with her red hands.
     "The  gentle lady Nega Luton is in no way  to blame.  When the  station
chief had to be removed, she sided with us Faetesses on Deimo."
     "Will Ala Veg confirm that?" asked Vydum Polar.
     "I confirm it," said Ala  Veg to her rival's  great astonishment. "Mrak
Luton went mad with fury when  his  wife refused to obey him. She is only to
blame for wanting to become first lady of the station."
     Nega  Luton flushed.  Better she had been condemned  than  made to hear
such words. She could have incinerated her judges with a single glance.
     Ala Veg sat  with  lowered eyes, and Ton! Fae,  standing behind all the
Faetians,  watched   her  admiringly.  How   beautiful  she  was,   and  how
fair-minded!


     The great Elder read out the court's sentence.
     Dovol  Sirus,  Vlasta Sirus  and  Mrak Luton were  guilty of  launching
disintegration torpedoes with the intention of destroying space stations and
were sentenced to imprisonment on Station Phobo. They would not  be taken to
Mar. They would provide their own services for the rest of their days:  they
would be left the necessary machinery and the greenhouse.
     Nega Luton was acquitted and would be taken to Mar.
     Mrak Luton stamped his foot when he heard the sentence.
     "This is violence! This  is lawlessness! This  is  a  crime!"  He began
foaming at the mouth. He clutched at his heart and collapsed into his chair.
     Dovol Sirus  watched him in  fright. "I implore you," he whined, "don't
leave a maniac with us. Send him back to Deimo... He is a Supreme Officer of
the Blood Guard, after all. His hands are steeped in blood."
     "Certain Faetians  claim to be fair-minded, but they want to destroy us
without  mercy!"  shrieked  Vlasta  Sirus.  "So let  them  fly  away!  We're
banishing them from our  station! We're sending  them into exile  on  barren
deserts! Exile! Exile! Exile!"
     The Faetians gradually dispersed, trying not to look at the condemned.
     Nega Luton went up to the judges.
     "Thank you for acquitting me. But please leave me with the condemned."
     Vydum  Polar  eyed  Nega  Luton closely  and with distaste.  He  didn't
believe that she wanted to  stay behind with that flabby,  corpulent Faetian
who  was  choking with rage.  This  was  more  likely a matter of calculated
self-interest:  there  would  be  less  work  to  do on the station  than on
inhospitable Mar, where they would be compelled to build underground refuges
for the Faetians and their descendants.
     Vydum Polar  was right, but he still hadn't reckoned  with Nega Luton's
obsessive hatred for Ala Veg at the time.
     It took a considerable time to complete Brat Lua's project,  augmented,
as it was, with many of Vydum Polar's own technical ideas.
     It was possible to  build an underground  settlement with an artificial
atmosphere, constantly purified and enriched with oxygen.
     Quest was preparing for its last trip.
     Station Phobo  would forever be  an artificial  satellite of the planet
Mar.
     Since  only  nine  instead of  thirteen  Faetians were landing  on  the
planet,  this meant that they could take with them considerably  more cargo,
technical appliances, instruments and inscribed  tablets for study by future
Marians.
     Vydum Polar envisaged an acute shortage of the metal necessary to build
underground shelters with  an artificial  air supply, and  so  he  suggested
dropping part  of Station Phobo onto the planet's surface. This would entail
dismantling  a third of the station's  structure and fitting  it with one of
the remaining defence rockets.
     Station Phobo  was much bigger than Station Deimo.  A reduction  in its
accommodation space would not affect the future life of the condemned.
     Needless  to say, they themselves refused  point-blank to  take part in
this operation, leaving it to the future Marians.
     Some of the  metal pipes used as  corridors and  the  premises  of  the
disused laboratories were detached from the station. Braked  by the reactive
force of the  defence rocket, they were  to leave the station's  orbit  and,
reducing speed relative to the Marian  orbital velocity, were to begin their
descent onto  the  planet. Because of its thinness and  low oxygen  content,
Mar's  atmosphere  should add  to the braking  effect on the  falling  metal
without causing re-entry burn-up.
     The  whole of Vydum Polar's operation took a considerable  time, during
which all the  Faetians lived together. The  condemned, however,  kept apart
from the rest and their attitude to them was hostile.
     The leave-taking of the Marians and the  condemned was consequently not
a particularly sad occasion. On the contrary, both  sides  had a  feeling of
relief.
     Dm Sat and Toni Fae were the first to  cross over into Quest. Both were
thinking  about Ave,  Mada and Gor Terr who had self-sacrificingly  given up
their places on the ship to  the Faetians from the  space stations. How were
the other three finding  it on Terr?  Would they hold out in the battle with
the Faetoids?
     Then all the other Faetians who were leaving went into the ship through
the airlock of the station's central section.
     Ala Veg went up to Toni Fae.
     "We're going to a new world  together,"  she said, putting her hand  on
his shoulder.
     The  young Faetian  nearly choked  with  emotion. Incredible trials and
tribulations lay ahead of them, but he was happy.
     Toni Fae had to determine the exact landing place for the reserve metal
to be used by future generations of Marians.
     Um Sat ordered that Quest  should land as near as possible to the metal
dropped onto Mar. Initially, they would  have to  dig the first deep shelter
themselves.  Afterwards,  perhaps, they would be  able to find natural caves
into which future generations would move.
     Remembering the lessons taught to him by  his friends on Terr, Toni Fae
began the gradual undocking of the  ship from the central section of Station
Phobo.
     "Will some other  spaceship  ever  come  close  to  this  station?"  he
wondered. "And when will it be?"
     None of those remaining behind was in the central section.
     Nega Luton and Vlasta Sirus locked themselves in their cabins.
     Mrak Luton, his arms thrust behind his back, was pacing up and down the
ring corridor onto  which the lifts opened. He was considering  how to seize
power  on Station  Phobo.  It was Vlasta Sirus whom he  regarded as his main
opponent, not the bloated Dovol Sirus.
     He mentally  assigned them all to the various sections leaving the sole
leadership to himself. They had many, many cycles to live yet!


     The Faetians may not have known about the behaviour of spiders in a jar
and how  they devour  one another.  Consequently, the  court  in space, when
leaving  the  condemned  on  Phobo,  was  not  influenced  by  this example.
However...
     Dovol Sirus  became the chronicler on  Phobo. He solemnly wrote memoirs
which, in his view,  would tell the truth about the tragedy of Faena and its
space colonies.
     A  long, long time afterwards,  they  did indeed,  in certain respects,
help to establish the fate of the condemned.

     Chapter Five

        THE NAKED LEADER

     When the wail of a newborn child was heard in the Faetians' house, Dzin
was  in the  forest nearby. She crept up to  the window, squatted  down and,
gripping  her heels with her  forepaws, began listening.  Sensing  that  the
hunters were  returning, she leapt for  cover into the  undergrowth and from
there she looked round at the stake-barred window.
     The first native Terran had appeared in  the Faetians' house. He had to
be called by his father's abbreviated surname-Av, or simply Avik.
     Mada  doted  upon  her  first  baby.  Often,  with his  arm  round  her
shoulders, Ave would look for a long time at the tiny, helpless creature.
     "The first boy on Terr!"  boomed  Gor Terr happily. "It's  a good thing
that a boy was born first. Let him grow up fast so that I can teach him many
tricks of the trade that a r-real Faetian ought to know."
     Gor  Terr was a wonderful  comrade. Modest, tactful, quiet in spite  of
his  reverberating bass  voice,  he looked after Ave  and Mada  in  the most
touching way.
     "The future of civilisation is in you," he would say.
     After Quest's thunderous  lift-off, the  Faetoids were evidently afraid
of the Faetians for some time and did not come near them. But they gradually
forgot their fear.  The  beasts  became  bolder; Ave and  Gor  noticed  them
several times  while  hunting in  the forest.  They even stole  the trophies
occasionally.
     As a  precaution,  the Faetians decided to  keep together wherever they
went.
     The Faetoids took advantage of this.
     Once, at  dusk,  when Mada, left on  her own in  the house, went to the
lake for water, three or four shaggy beasts rushed up to the  barred windows
and began smashing the stakes.
     On hearing  the baby cry out, Mada  took alarm  and  ran back, spilling
water from the home-made vessel before finally throwing it aside.
     The door of the house was locked, but  she could not  hear  Avik crying
inside. She threw the door open and froze with horror.
     Stakes broken out of the window were lying on the floor. The chi Id was
gone. There was a foul reek of animals. Mada recognised it at once.
     Sna