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Navigating visually, Kincaide followed the winding course of the river, covering in a few minutes a distance it had taken the scientists a day to navigate.

“There–there is the place,” said Tipene suddenly. “Just this side of the patch of vegetation.”

“Very good. And remember what happens if you play any tricks,” I nodded grimly. “Descend to within a few yards of the ground, Mr. Kincaide; we’ll drop Tipene through the trap.”

Correy hurried the prisoner away, and I ordered the trap in the bottom of the Ertak’s hull to be opened.

“Now,” I informed Tipene, “we’ll let you down and you will establish communication with the Aranians. Tell them you have brought back, not tribute, but an enemy powerful enough to blast their entire city out of existence. It will be a simple matter for you to picture what an atomic grenade or one of the ship’s rays will do. We’ll arrange a little demonstration, if they’re not convinced. And tell them that if they don’t want to be wiped out, to bring Inverness and Brady to us, unharmed, as fast as their eight long legs will manage.”

“They won’t do it,” whined Tipene. “They were very angry over the killing of those others. I’m just risking my life without the possibility of gain.”

“You obey my orders, or you go down and stay there,” I said abruptly. “Which?”

“I’ll do as you say,” he said, and the cage dropped with him swiftly.

* * * * *

As soon as he was on the ground he reached up and adjusted his menore, peering around anxiously. For several minutes nothing happened, and then, the length of the ship away, one of the great trap-doors flew open. Out of it came one of the spiders, not rust-red like those we had seen, but faded to a dirty yellow. Close behind him were two of the rust-red Aranians, which fell in one on each side of the yellow chap.

The first Aranian, I presumed–and rightly–was one of the old learned members of the race. As he scuttled closer to the cowering Tipene, I saw that, amidst the bristles which covered his head and thorax, was a menore.

The three great spiders approached the ship warily, watching it constantly with huge, glittering eyes. A safe distance away they paused, and the old one fixed his attention on Tipene.

Evidently, what Tipene emanated caused the old fellow to become very angry; I could see his legs quivering, and his withered old mandibles fairly clattered.

“He says he won’t do it!” Tipene called up to me, excitedly. “Says we can’t reach them underground, and that they’ll kill their hostages if we try to harm them.”

“Ask him if there are any tunnels between the ship and the river,” I commanded. “We’ll demonstrate what we can do if he harms Inverness and Brady.”

The two were in silent communion for a moment, and Tipene looked up and shook his head.

“No,” he shouted. “No tunnels there. The water would seep into them.”

“Then tell him to watch!”

I stepped back and pressed an attention signal.

“Mr. Hendricks?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Open up with the starboard tube, full power, concentrated beam, at any spot halfway between here and the river. At once.”

“At once, sir!”

* * * * *

The ray generators hummed instantly, their note deepening a moment later. The ray bit into the dry, sandy soil, boring steadily into the earth, making an opening over twice the height of a man in diameter.

The fine, reddish-brown dust of disintegration hung swirling above the mouth of the tunnel at first, and then, as the ray cut deeper into the earth, settled quickly and disappeared.

“Cease operation, Mr. Hendricks!” I commanded. “Keep the generators on, and stand by for further orders.”