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 10. The largest value that can be stored in a byte is 1.

ANS: F

11. The term 'pixel' stands for 'picture element.'

ANS: T

12. A binary number can only represent integer values from 0 through 255.

ANS: F

13. A program is a list of instructions that tell the CPU to perform operations.

ANS: T

14. The CPU can only execute machine language programs.

ANS: T

15. A machine language instruction exists for each basic operation a CPU can do.

ANS: T

16. If a program's source code contains a syntax error, it can still be translated to machine language by a
compiler.

ANS: F

17. In a program with a graphical user interface, all of the objects are always visible when the program
starts.

ANS: F

18. The C# language provides classes and other code necessary to create GUIs and perform many other
advanced operations.

ANS: F

19. The C# language allows you to write your own classes that have specific fields, properties, and
methods for any application.

ANS: T

20. The .NET framework provides classes to create Forms, TextBoxes, Labels, Buttons, and many other
types of objects.

ANS: T

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. A computer's memory is divided into tiny storage locations known as __________.

 a. sectors b. arrays c. cells d. bytes
ANS: D

2. In the __________ numbering system, all numeric values are written as sequences of the digits 0 and
1.
a. hexadecimal c. octal
b. decimal d. binary
ANS: D

3. Programs are commonly referred to as __________.

a. applications c. software
b. simulations d. firmware
ANS: C

4. Which refers to all the physical devices or components of a computer?

a. hardware c. machine
b. workstation d. system
ANS: A

5. The __________ is the part of a computer's hardware that executes each instruction in a program.
a. CPU c. main memory
b. software d. programming language
ANS: A

6. __________ is a type of memory that can hold data for long periods of time, even when there is no
power to the computer.
a. RAM c. Application software
b. Secondary storage d. Main memory
ANS: B

7. The computer component that collects data and sends it to the computer is called a(n) __________.
a. storage device c. sending unit
b. output device d. input device
ANS: D

8. Any data that the computer produces and sends to another device, such as a video display or speaker,
is known as __________.
a. output b. software c. firmware d. multimedia
ANS: A

9. A(n) __________ performs a specialized task that enhances the computer's operation or safeguards
data.
a. utility program c. USB drive
b. secondary storage device d. operating system
 ANS: A

10. __________ is an extensive encoding scheme that is compatible with ASCII and can also represent the
characters of many of the world's languages.
a. Baudot code b. EBDIC c. ANSEL d. Unicode
ANS: D

11. Before a computer can store a real number in memory, it must be encoded in __________.
a. floating-point notation c. EBCDIC
b. hexadecimal d. decimal mode
ANS: A

12. A(n) __________ is any device that works with binary data.
a. electronic module c. binary machine
b. digital device d. computational tool
ANS: B

13. Digital images are composed of tiny dots of color known as __________.
a. halftone cells c. light-emitting diodes
b. pixels d. raster elements
ANS: B

14. A digital song is broken into small pieces known as ___________.

a. tones b. pulses c. samples d. waves
ANS: C

15. When a CPU executes each instruction in a program, it uses a process known as the __________.
a. fetch-decode-execute cycle c. code assembly process
b. ready-set-go phase d. compilation sequence
ANS: A

16. Instead of using binary numbers for instructions, assembly language uses short words known as
__________.
a. mnemonics b. keywords c. operators d. terms
ANS: A

17. Words that have a predefined meaning in a high-level language are known as __________ or reserved
words.
a. mnemonics b. keywords c. pseudonyms d. semantics
ANS: B

18. Programming languages have __________ that perform various operations on data.
a. mnemonics b. keywords c. states d. operators
ANS: D
19. A special program known as a(n) __________ is used to translate an assembly language program into
a machine language program.
a. interpreter c. translator
b. assembler d. code conversion tool
ANS: B

20. A(n) __________ allows you to create powerful and complex programs without knowing how the
CPU works and without writing a large amount of low-level instructions.
a. assembler c. high-level language
b. interpreter d. virtual language
ANS: C

21. Each programming language has its own __________ which is a set of rules that must be strictly
followed when writing a program.
a. convention c. syntax
b. conversion rules d. structure
ANS: C

22. The individual instructions that you use to write a program in a high-level programming language are
called __________.
a. directives c. statements
b. commands d. orders
ANS: C

23. A(n) __________ is a mistake such as a misspelled keyword, a missing punctuation character, or the
incorrect use of an operator.
a. parsed anomaly c. code bug
b. syntax error d. illegal operation
ANS: B

24. Because GUI programs must respond to the actions of the user, they are said to be _________.
a. response-based c. open-ended
b. drag-and-drop d. event-driven
ANS: D

25. When you use a(n) __________ language, you create programs by putting together a collection of
objects.
a. object-oriented c. collective
b. object-based d. high-levek
ANS: A

26. The data stored in an object are commonly called fields or __________.
a. functions c. properties
b. characteristics d. values
 ANS: C

27. The operations that an object can perform are called __________.
a. actions b. events c. properties d. methods
ANS: D

28. In object-oriented programming with a GUI interface, a window displayed on the screen is called a
__________.
a. window object c. form object
b. screen object d. frame object
ANS: C

29. A __________ object displays text on a form.

a. Text b. Font c. Character d. Label
ANS: D

30. A __________ is code that describes a particular type of program object.

a. class b. specification c. blueprint d. diagram
ANS: A

31. Before beginning a new programming project, you must __________.

a. design the program's logic c. write the program's code
b. correct syntax errors d. understand the program's purpose
ANS: D

32. A(n) __________ describes a set of well-defined logical steps that must be taken to perform a task.
a. flowchart b. schematic c. algorithm d. outline
ANS: C

33. An algorithm written out in plain English statements is called __________.

a. prototyping b. pseudocode c. outlining d. quick-code
ANS: B

34. A __________ is a diagram that graphically depicts the steps of an algorithm.

a. flowchart c. schematic
b. billboard d. hierarchy chart
ANS: A

35. A(n) __________ is a mistake that does not prevent a program from starting but causes it to produce
incorrect results.
a. syntax error c. parse error
b. logic error d. running error
ANS: B
36. A(n) __________ provides all the necessary tools to create, test, and debug software.
a. super computer
b. integrated development environment (IDE)
c. operating system
d. software development kit (SDK)
ANS: B

37. In Visual Studi each Visual C# application you create is called a __________.
a. solution b. file c. source d. project
ANS: A

38. When you create a Visual C# application, use the __________ window to examine and change a
control's properties.
a. Properties c. Designer
b. Solution Explorer d. Attributes
ANS: A

39. When you create a new project using Visual Studio, it will be stored in a __________ at the location
you specify on your computer's disk.
a. Solution folder c. Solution file
b. Project folder d. System file
ANS: A

40. A computer stores a program while the program is running as well as the data used by the program in
__________.
a. main memory c. the CPU
b. the software d. secondary storage
ANS: A
Other documents randomly have
different content
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tonight the
Stars Revolt!
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Tonight the Stars Revolt!

Author: Gardner F. Fox

Illustrator: Herman B. Vestal

Release date: December 15, 2020 [eBook #64052]

Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TONIGHT THE

STARS REVOLT! ***
Tonight the Stars Revolt!
 A Novel by GARDNER F. FOX

In the Black Pools he found the

50,000-year-lost wisdom of the Ancients.
For a day Red Angus held victory in his
sword-hand. But it was too short a glimpse,
too elusive a thought to bolster the
star-rabble against the Citadel's iron guard.

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from

Planet Stories March 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The pools were like the gaping mouth of space itself, dark and
fathomless, extending into bottomless wells, the depths of which the
people of Karr could only guess. Some said the god Stasor dwelt in
the glistening black depths. Others claimed the emptiness was the
hollow interior of the planet. None of them was right.
All men feared the pools. Only a man fifty thousand years old knew
their incredible secret, and he lived in an invisible city....

Red Angus fled like a frightened hound through the twisted alleys of
the Lower City. Dim lamplight from the towering white walls of the
Citadel threw glowing brilliance across his naked chest, glinted on
the metal studs of his broad leather belt, and on the rippling muscles
of his long legs. He skidded on a patch of slops, righted himself and
dove for the darkness of an arched doorway. He drew back in the
shadows, barely feeling the burn of the new brand on his shoulder
that stamped him as a pirate.
Faintly, he heard the shouts and drumming feet of the Diktor's police
as they ravened in the streets, hunting him. His heart thudded
swiftly under the high arch of his ribcase. Red Angus smiled wryly.
He was a hunted space pirate, just free of the cell blocks below the
palace. But he was more than that to the Diktor of Karr. He was a
Karrvan noble who had gone bad, who had fled into space and
established an eyrie on a wandering asteroid, who had set himself
up as a one-man crusade against Stal Tay, ruler of Karr by the grace
of the god Stasor.
"I'll find a way," the pirate swore in the shadows, listening to the
shouts and running of the guards, the sharp, barking blasts of their
heatguns.
There was a faint sound behind the thick oaken door. Angus moved
his naked back, still welt and scarred, away from the damp wood.
He clenched a big fist and stood silent, waiting.
He was a tall man, lean in the belly and wide about the shoulders.
His mouth was thin but curved at the corners as though used to
smiling. Close-cropped reddish hair gave his hard, tanned face a
fiery look. Dark blue eyes glistened in the half-squint of the habitual
spaceman.
The oaken door swung open. A cowled form stood in the darkness of
the archway putting out a thin, old hand toward him. Where the
cowl hung there was only a faint white dimness for a face.
"The Hierarch will see you, and save you, Red Angus," said the old
man. "Come in. He hopes you'll listen to reason."
"The Hierarch?" snorted the lean man in disbelief. "He's hand in arm
with Stal Tay. He'd land me back with my ankles in a manacle chain."
The cowled man shook his head and whispered, "Hurry, hurry.
There's no time to argue!"
A shout from a street less than sixty feet away decided the half-
naked, winded Angus. He moved his shoulders in a bitter shrug and
slid inside the door. The latch clicked on the door and a hand caught
his. A voice, gentle with age, said softly, "Follow me."

Two hundred feet from the door the walls began to glow. Angus
looked at his guide and saw an old man, a member of the Hierarchy,
a priestly cult of scientists who were honored and protected by the
Diktor. Thirty years before, when the people of the Lower City had
been ravaged by disease, they had stormed the block of buildings
where the scientists worked.
They had wrecked machines and killed men.
The people of the Lower City were no better than savages and the
pagan superstitions they boasted were encouraged by Stal Tay. It
pleased the Diktor to believe that science was something only the
rich deserved. So Stal Tay stepped in. He withdrew the scientists
from the world of men and gave them a little world of their own that
was called the Citadel.
Red Angus and the scientist went through corridors that bent and
twisted in subtle fashion. It was quiet in this underground tunnel.
Once Angus heard the subterranean rush of a hidden river seeking
an outlet in the great Car Carolan Sea. Water condensed in oozing
droplets on the cold stone walls.
Then they were going up handhewn stone steps toward an archway
in which a thick, soot-blackened door was opening. Lights glared
beyond the doorway in a large room with a high, groined ceiling.
He saw Tandor first, standing big and massive among the cowled
priests, the wall light glinting from his bald head. They had had a
time taking him from the Lower City, Angus saw. There were cut
marks on him, and the blood here and there on his rough wool tunic
had dried.
A tall man in a white cowl that was bordered with purple came
toward them. He said, "I saved your man from the Diktor's torturers.
Money will do much in the Citadel. Even a pirate's first captain is not
as valuable as a handful of sestelins."
Red Angus shrugged. "What do you want from me?"
The Hierarch nodded. "They told me you were a sensible man.
Tonight I will free Tandor after you do me a service."
"What service?"
The Hierarch studied him carefully. "Kill the Diktor!"
Angus barked derisive laughter. "As well ask me to find the Book of
Nard. I'd stand as much chance!"
"I may well ask that too, before you and I are through."
"Suppose I refuse?"
The Hierarch sighed. His black eyes glittered in the shadow of his
cowl. "I'll smash your legs so you can't run, and let Stal Tay send his
men for you. I'll put red-hot daggers in Tandor's eyes until he
confesses your crimes. I—"
Angus scowled. "I thought the Diktor was your friend."
"He keeps us penned in the Citadel as his slaves. The scientific
discoveries we make he claims as his own. He sent the diseases that
the people blamed on the scientists."
Angus said, "I will kill him." But he thought to himself, I only play for
time. It's promise or get my legs broken.
They led Angus to a little room where a cowled man waited for him
with garments that were living reds and ochres, braided with gold
and ornate with jewels. The scientist said coldly, "You are to
impersonate the Ambassador of Nowk. He's red-headed and big with
a scar on his face like your own."
The night air was crisp as Angus stepped with the cowled scientist
through a stone gateway and into a long, sleek wheeler. He gathered
his cloak of black sateenis about him and sank into the foamisal
upholstery.
The cowled man whispered, "Everything is arranged. A woman
dancer, Berylla by name, will dance for the Diktor. Right after that he
plans to call you to his side to discuss the new trade agreement with
Nowk. The dancer will give you the signal as she leaves. When
you're summoned strike at the Diktor's neck. A divertissement in the
form of drunken revellers has been planned. In the excitement, you
will be spirited away."
Angus touched the slim dagger at his side and nodded.
The Diktor of Karr was a big man. He was solid in the shoulder and
slim at the waist. His head was bald, and there was a jagged scar
across his right temple. He sat on his jewelled throne and drummed
restless fingers against the hand-carved arm.
Beside him sat a woman with sloe eyes and hair the color of a
raven's wing. The thin stuff of her gown clung to supple haunches
and proud breasts. She watched the new Ambassador from Nowk
thread a path through the guests, unable to decide whether the man
was ugly or ruggedly handsome. But he was big, with long, heavily-
muscled arms and legs, and he had the look of a fighter.
Moana laughed softly. There was music in her voice and art in the
manner of her movement as he drew closer. Her eyes ran over his
big frame slowly, slumberously.
Red Angus came to a stop at the base of the dais and bowed low.
He was a pirate but he had been in the great capitals of the Six
Worlds.
"Your first visit to Karr?" smiled Stal Tay.
"The first, excellency."
"You like the court we keep?"
Red Angus knew of the taverns and swill-wet streets of the Lower
City. He knew the people were slaves to the Hierarchy and to the
Diktor and his little coterie. Girls danced and pandered to the desires
of the rich—if they did not, things were done to them in secret. He
knew men grew old before their time, working to pay for the rare
jewels that Moana and others like her flaunted.
But he murmured, "Plegasston of Nowk has said, 'For the good of
the State, the greatest number of its people must enjoy the greatest
amount of its highest rewards.' But Plegasston was a dreamer."
Moana gestured Angus to the golden chair beside her. She let her
fingertips brush his hand as he took the seat. "Tell me about
yourself, Ben Tal."
Angus grinned, "I'm a relative of his Eminence of Nowk. That
explains all about me. But you. You're priestess to the god Stasor.
You've gone into the black pool to face him. You've heard his
pronouncements!"
Moana made a wry face and shrugged. Strains of music swept down
from the fluted ceiling, diffused throughout the room. Her black eyes
glowed. "Don't talk religion to me, Ben Tal. Take me in your arms
and let us dance."
She was warm and fragrant, following his movements. Her dark eyes
enticed as her hands fluttered from his arm to his shoulder to his
neck. She made the moments fly. Seated with her at a table, letting
her feed him playfully, he almost forgot his mission.
And then....
The room darkened. The hidden musicians made their stringed
instruments dance with savage rhythm. And in a circle of golden
light, her white flesh gleaming fitfully through a garment of
diamonds, a woman swayed out onto the cleared floor.
And Angus remembered. He was here to kill a man.
The woman in the service of the Hierarchs was a fireflame out there
with the jeweled dress cloud of living rainbows swirling about her.
She pirouetted, dipped, and leaped. She was motionless—and a
storm of movement. She laughed. She wept. She taunted and
cajoled. She was everything any woman ever was.
Angus saw her eyes darting, hunting him. They slid over his deep
chest and long legs, square jaw and close-cropped red hair many
times without recognition. Only toward the end, as the beam of light
that spotlighted her dance touched him too, did she know him.
Her surprise made her stumble but she recovered swiftly. She
whirled around the room, diamonds tinkling faintly to the stamping
of her bare feet. She threw herself into the Dance of the Garland of
Gems, and made it a living thing. When she came to the black
curtains she posed for an instant, moved her arm in the agreed
signal, and was gone.
The Diktor lifted a hand and gestured. Angus bowed to Moana and
got to his feet. With all the iron control he had developed on the
lonely star-trails he fought to keep his hand from his knife-haft.
He bent to take his seat. Now his right hand was sheltered by his
body and he put it on the dagger.
The thin blade whispered, coming out of the scabbard.
Red Angus leaned forward and thrust at the throat before him.
Four hands came out of midair and fastened to his wrist. They
dragged him down by surprise and by the weight of their bodies. He
went off his chair in a rolling fall, hitting the man to his left, toppling
him backwards into Stal Tay.

Men were shouting. A woman screamed. Angus brought his hard left
fist up in a short arc, drove it into the stomach-muscles of the man
on his right. The man grunted and went backwards. Red Angus
stood free, his clean blade still naked in his hand.
He leaped for Stal Tay but other guards had come running. One
threw himself before the dagger, both hands catching at it. Another
hit the pirate across the legs with his hurtling body. A third man
clawed himself to a position astride his back, hooking a hairy
forearm under his chin. That was when the rest of them hit him.
Angus went back off his feet into a mass of struggling, cursing flesh.
The guards yelped triumphantly but Red Angus had fought in tavern
brawls in the Lower City, had wrestled with salt slavers on the desert
dunes, had fought fights from Karr to Rimeron. He surged up. His
fists went up and down. His right hand flashed out, closing on a
guard's wrist. The guard screamed and fell away, moaning.
Angus breathed through distended nostrils, dancing back, fists
thudding into rib and jaw. He fought to get room and he almost
made it. But a guard left his feet in a wild dive before the pirate
could brace himself. The man hit his knees and took them out from
under him. Angus went down under a dozen leaping warriors. Grimy,
blooded, Red Angus shook his head and gave up.
Moana was standing above him, laughing scorn through the queer,
awed light in her eyes. Her white breasts rose and fell swiftly under
their scant covering. "The little dancer knew you, Ben Tal. I saw
that. But she's never been out of Karr City. And this is your first visit.
Who are you?"
Red Angus shrugged as the guardsmen lifted him to his feet and sat
him roughly down in a chair before the Diktor. He made a wry face.
There was a taste like bitter ashes dragging down the corners of his
mouth. His belly quivered under the glistening cloth of his breeches.
He seemed to hear the Hierarch's drawling voice, "If you fail, you
die!"
The Diktor waved a hand. The guards lifted him, dragged him
behind velveteen drapes and along a stone corridor, into a small
room. The Diktor and Moana followed at his heels. It was the Diktor
who turned the key in the lock.
"Who sent you?" the stocky ruler asked softly. "Who paid for my
death? Tell me that, and you'll walk out of here a free man."
Red Angus shook his head. He met the hazel eyes of the Diktor
grimly.
Stal Tay smiled. "Berylla the dancer knows you. I can always have
her brought in, you know."
Moana had been walking around Angus. She came close, put a hand
on the tunic that fitted his chest like a glove, and ripped. His heavily
muscled shoulder was laid bare, where the inflamed interlocking
triangles gleamed.
Moana cried out. "A pirate!"
The Diktor opened his eyes wide. "Of course. Now I know you. Red
Angus. My men captured you a week ago. But how in Stasor's name
did you get free?"
Angus said briefly, "Does it matter?"
"No." Stal Tay went and sat on a curved sigellis-chair and crossed his
heavy legs. He drummed short, powerful fingers against the beethel-
wood arm. "But the fact that you came back after getting free—that
is important. You wouldn't have stayed in Karr City unless you had
to. Who made you stay? Certainly you didn't hate me enough to risk
your neck on such a long chance."
Angus grinned through the fear in him. "A million people hate you, if
you want to know. You keep the lower-city men and women in filthy
poverty to buy you and your kind jewels and luxury. You subsidize
the Hierarchy, using their science to make your life easier and safer.
Why deny those poor devils down below what you could give them
so cheaply? Heat. Light. Power to operate a few machines. Let them
taste something from life besides slops and sweaty clothes and hard
beds."
"Oho," laughed the Diktor softly. "Plegasston of Nowk made a
convert. What else did he say, Angus?"
"He said that government and science should serve the people, not
enslave them. Doesn't Stasor teach that?"

Moana laughed softly. Her black eyes taunted him. She said, "You
want to hear what Stasor says about government and science and
people, Angus the Red? Let me take him through the Veil, Eminence.
Let the god himself tell the fool."
The Diktor smiled thinly, looking from man to woman. He shook his
head. Moana moved to one side of the square-set ruler. Her black
eyes bored straight at Angus. He tried to understand their
expression.
The Diktor stood up. "I've used reason, Angus. You're a pirate.
You've preyed on my space-caravans. You've stolen and plundered
from me. I tell you again, I'll forgive all that—even reward you—if
you tell me who sent you here this night."
The black eyes burned at him in Moana's pale white face. She
touched her full upper lip with a red tongue-tip.
"If I could see Stasor," fumbled Angus, trying to fathom what Moana
wanted him to say. When she nodded almost imperceptibly, he went
on, "perhaps he could make me change my mind. If Stasor says I've
been a fool, why then everything I've believed in will have gone
smash. In that case I'd like to serve your Eminence."
Moana's black eyes laughed, silently applauding him. The Diktor
scowled thoughtfully. He swung around on the girl. "Will you be his
vow-companion?"
Angus knew what that meant. If he found a way to escape, the
Diktor would stretch that lovely white body on the rack in place of
his own, give those thighs and breasts and face to the red-hot
pincers, the nails, the barked hooks. He would never let her suffer
that fate.
Maybe the Diktor knew that. He smiled a little as Moana promised.
He went, without another glance at Angus.
Moana said softly, "It was all I could do, Red Angus. He would have
taken you to the Pits tonight if I hadn't delayed it."
"You don't owe me anything," he told her crisply.
"I do, though. My brother angered the Diktor a year ago. He was
sent to the salt marshes of Ptixt. You raided the caravan that carried
him and set him free. My brother lives safely hidden today, in one of
your pirate cities. I remember that, Angus. Sometimes good deeds
do pay off. What does Plegasston say about that?"
She went past him and through the doorway.
He followed her swaying body along the drape-hung corridors, into
small rooms and past oak-beamed doors. She came to a blank wall,
reached up and pressed pink fingertips against a rose-red stone.
"The whorls at the tips of my fingers set off a light-switch
mechanism within the stone," she explained. "It's better than any
key."
Somewhere an engine hummed faintly and the rock wall began to
turn. It swung aside to reveal a narrow corridor leading downwards.
The walls were coated with a luminescent blueness that glowed
brightly, lighting the way.
Angus saw the pool long before he came to it. A round metal collar
bordered the glistening blackness, that seemed to press upward as
though striving to burst free of whatever held it. It shimmered and
quivered. It pulsed and throbbed with something close to life itself.
Angus came to a stop, staring at it. He put out a hand and thrust it
into the darkness. It felt light, biting, and he thought it might taste
like heady wine.
Moana took his other hand. She whispered, "Come," and stepped
down into the pool.
The darkness swam all around Angus. He felt it on his skin, in the
pores of his arms and hands and legs. It made him giddy, so that he
wanted to laugh. It was like walking on air, to stride in this thing.
They went down into the pool and stood in a strange space, where
there was only blackness, unrelieved by light. It was cold. Faintly,
Angus could hear what he thought was music.
"Will yourself ahead," he heard a musical voice whisper.
He floated effortlessly.
"Where are we?" he wondered aloud.
"Out of space. Out of time. In the abode of the god. Soon now, we
shall see Stasor."
A bright point of red glowed faintly, as a pinhead might gleam when
heated in a fire. It grew swiftly to the size of a fist, to the size of a
head.
The red glow burst, and sent streamers of flame out into the
darkness.
Where the red had been was Stasor.

His face floated in a white mist, ancient and wise and sorrowful. The
dimly veined lids were shut. The forehead was high, rounded,
surmounted by snowy hair. On either side of the great hawk-nose,
high cheekbones protruded. The eyelids quivered, slowly arose.
Angus stared dumbly into living wisdom. He wondered deep inside
him how old Stasor must be, to know what those eyes knew; how
many worlds he must have gazed on, how many peoples he must
have seen grow to statehood, to degeneracy, to death.
"You entered the pool. I felt your emanations. What do you wish?"
Moana said, "I am your priestess, Stasor. I have brought a man to
see you."
"Let the man speak."
Angus wet his lips. He scowled, trying to find words. He mumbled,
"I've been sentenced to die for attempting to kill the Diktor of Karr.
He's an evil man."
"What is evil, my son? Is a man bad because he opposes your will?"
Angus growled, "He's a curse to his race. He sends disease and
death on his people when they disobey him. He keeps improvement
from them. He makes them slaves when they might be gods."
"That is your belief. What says the Book of Nard?"
Moana whispered, "The Book of Nard is lost, High One."
Stasor was silent a long time. He said, finally, "The Book must be
found. In it are the secrets of the Elder Race. Go to the City of the
Ancients. There you will find the Book."
"No one today knows where the City is, either. It is lost, with all the
secrets of the Elder Race."
"The City lies across the Car Carolan Sea, through the Land of Living
Flame. Go there."
The lips closed. The eyelids shut. Swiftly the old face faded into
nothingness. The blackness came and pressed around them.
Angus turned slowly, as in a dream. Still in that dreamlike trance he
found himself staring at three tall, cowled forms that stood like
sentinels.
Moana screamed.
One of the cowled figures lifted an arm and gestured assurance.
"There is no cause for fear. The Hierarch sent us to bring you before
him."
Moana shuddered. Angus felt her cold hand seeking his, trying to
hide itself in his palm. Hand in hand they willed themselves after the
cowled forms. They swam bodily through the blackness, moving
eerily, without muscular movement.
A round curtain of shimmering bluish motes ahead of them was like
a glowing patch in the darkness. One of the cowled forms turned
and waited. He said, "Another pool, Moana. The pool of the
Hierarchy. We, too, know the way into this world."
"What is the blackness?" wondered Angus.
"What man knows? It was formed and built by the Elder Ones before
they went on."
They were in the pool, passing upward through its queer surface. It
sizzled and bubbled all around them, tingling on the skin.
They passed the pool and stood in a low-ceilinged, bare room.
A cowled man opened a door for them and stood aside.
The Hierarch sat in a curved chair ornate with gold edgings. His
pale, ascetic face gloomed from the shadow of his big cowl. He
stared at them, a thin smile touching his lips. He stared so long that
Angus asked impatiently, "What do you want with us? Tandor, is he
free?"
Moana gasped, sudden understanding waking her mind. The
Hierarch brushed her with his eyes and sighed.
"Tandor is free. I fulfill my promises. You tried and failed, yet you
tried. Now—"
He paused, fingertips pressed together, brooding down at Angus.
"Many thousands of eons ago, before our race came into existence,
all Karr belonged to the Elder Race. It lived a long time on this
world, before it went on."
Angus grinned, "Your priest said that. You and he mean—"
The Hierarch spoke patiently, as if lecturing a child. "It did not die
out. It went on, to another plane of existence. Everything must
progress. That is the immutable law of nature. The First Race
progressed, far beyond our understanding, beyond the natural laws
as we know them. They exist today—somewhere outside.
"Stasor, now. Take him, for instance." The Hierarch flicked burning
black eyes at Moana. "Some think he is a god. He is a member of
the Elder Race."
Moana said harshly. "Blasphemy! You speak blasphemy of Stasor."
The Hierarch shrugged. "I tell you Stasor is a four-plane man, one
not bound by our three dimensions. He and his kind have gone on to
that other world. They left behind them rules to guide those who
came after them. They left the pools. They were a great race, the
Elders, and the black pools are their greatest discovery. Those rules
they gave us are contained in the Book of Nard. I want that book!"
"Why?"
The Hierarch smiled gently. "With the secrets of the Elders at my
fingertips do you think the Diktor could keep us penned here in the
Citadel?"
A faint hope burned in Angus' chest. "You mean, you wouldn't be
cloistered any more? That you'd give your science to the people and
help them up?"
"Pah!" snapped the Hierarch. "The people? Pigs! They wallow in their
filths and love it." His burning black eyes glittered fanatically. "No. I
mean I—and not the Diktor—will rule all Karr!"
He is mad, too, thought Angus. He and the Diktor—mad with the
lust for power. If the Diktor dies and the Hierarch rules the people
will change a bootheel for a mortar and pestle. Even the stars must
revolt against that.

II

The street was dark, except for the moonlight shining faintly through
the serrated rooftops, and reflected grey and dismal from the
rounded edges of the cobblestones. Angus and a cowled man made
a short dash, ran into the shadows, and trotted at a slow pace.
Above them a sign creaked on rusty chains. Angus looked behind at
the huge stone bulk of the Citadel where it rose from solid rock, wall
piled on wall, and turret on tower, and battlement upon bastion.
Beyond the Citadel the thin, delicate spires of the palaces towered
above the clean, fragrantly perfumed Upper City. Up above, there
was no swill. There was no stench of rotting garbage. The patricians
did not know what roast derstite looked like on a greasy platter, or
how broiled colob smelled or what awful stuff the vintners sold in
the big Mart.
Angus said, "I still don't see why the Hierarch bothers sending me
after the Book. He has a lot of scientists who'd do a better job of
finding it."
The lips of the man twisted in the darkness of the cowl. "How do
you think the Diktor keeps us penned in the Citadel, red-man? He
has spectragrams of each of us in his palace, attached to central
controls. Every once in a while he has his captains check on our
locations. When the vibratory beams touch us, they reflect our
spectrums on the visi-screens. If one of us is out of place—beyond
the limits of Karr City, that is—he sends a patrol to find and capture
us. We lost several good men that way before we grew resigned.
Once a scientist is captured by the Diktor he is destroyed. Instantly."
"Isn't there anyone else to help you?"
The scientist showed his disdain by a twitch of the lips. "Who? One
of the people? They'd run so fast to betray us a theto-hound couldn't
catch them. They hate the Diktor, but I think they hate us more."
Behind them the shadow of a man with a zigzag scar on his face
disengaged himself from beneath an overhanging cornice and
silently followed.
Angus and the scientist went through the narrow streets, down
stone steps and across a great square. To one side the red lanterns
of the Spotted Stag tavern glowed and the shouts and roistering
laughter of men mingled with the shrill, excited laughter of a
woman.
The scientist glanced about him nervously, wet his lips with his
tongue. "I don't like this section. It's too near the wharves. There
are other rats than the four-legged kind."
A blackish, blunt object in the big hand of a half-naked man bounced
from the skull of the cowled one. Angus went forward, left hand
hooking. He caught the big man on the side of the mouth and drove
his head sideways. His right fist was crossing as his left landed. He
hit the man with his right hand and the man went backwards into a
brick wall.
"Easy, Angus," growled a voice in back of him, with a hint of
laughter in it.
Angus whirled, teeth bared. When he saw the bald head of the giant
in front of him he laughed harshly.
"By the gods! Tandor. The Hierarch did keep his promise, then!"
"We heard you'd missed killing that scum that lives in the palace by
an inch. Tsk! The Hierarch felt that, with luck, Stal Tay would be
dead by now. He let me go, yes. As soon as he learned that you and
that priestess were in the black pool."
Angus bent and threw back the cowl of the scientist. There was a
swelling lump on the back of his head. Angus said, "I thought you
broke his skull when you hit him." He looked at the man stirring
against the brick wall. "Sorry, friend. I thought you a footpad."
"Tandor told me you were fast. He wasn't lying." The man grinned
ruefully, feeling his jaw.
Tandor shouldered Angus aside and picked up the cowled man. He
led the way up through the streets, the limp man's legs and arms
dangling inertly. Tandor asked, "Where was he taking you?"
"To a hidden globe-ship. I'm supposed to find the Book of Nard. The
Hierarch is holding Moana as hostage for my success."
Tandor whistled softly, eyes round. "He exchanged me for the girl. A
smart man, the High Priest!"

Laughter came out at them from the illy-lighted interior of the tavern
together with the dry smell of wine and the stench of sweating flesh.
Tandor kicked the oak door open and went along the wall with his
burden. A girl with a rag around her middle ran for Angus, tipsily
pressing wet lips to his. She threw up a wooden goblet, the red wine
splashing over its rim, crying, "The Anvil! To Red Angus the Anvil—
the only friend we have!"
The roar echoed in his ears as Angus stepped into the little side
room. Tandor kicked a chair toward Angus, reaching for a wooden
pitcher. He growled, "Are you going hunting for the Book?"
Angus stretched out his legs and dragged a full goblet toward him.
He stared at the dark liquor. Finally he said, "Yes, I'm going."
"Why?"
"Because I've seen the way they live in the Upper City. I've seen the
life they lead and I've seen the life those people out there in the big
room lead."
Tandor made a rumbling sound in his throat. "You don't think they'll
appreciate your changing it, do you?"
Angus looked thoughtful. He smiled, "I know what our race is
heading toward, now. We will be like Stasor—the man behind the
veil—eventually. The longer the Diktor stays in power, and others like
him, the longer will the rest of us be kept from that goal."
Tandor grinned like a wolf. "Some men like to be martyrs. It's a
weakness of the brain." He scowled, and brought the flat of his ham-
like hand down on the wooden tabletop. "I say it's madness. Let the
Hierarch and the Diktor slit each other's throats. Let's go back to the
star trails, Angus. Out where a man can breathe and stretch
himself."
Angus shook his head. "Take the ship yourself. Go raiding, if you
want. I stay. I want to answer a question."
"What question?"
"Why is science?"
"Why is—? You're crazy, now. I know it. Of all the stupid questions.
Science is an art designed to better the life standards of the
patrician class. There. That answer you?"
"I say science is something that should benefit all. Why do we have
torches while the hierarchy and the patricians use illumi-lamps and
incandescent walls? Why don't we have stoves instead of hearths or
electronizers instead of percussion guns?"
Tandor smirked. "It's safer."
Angus got to his feet and walked about the smoky, oak-beamed
room. In the reddish light his naked chest and thickly muscled arms
seemed coated with crimson. The short crop of red hair on his
rounded, square-jawed skull added to the illusion. He planted his
hands on his hips and stood in front of his lieutenant.
"I turned pirate when the last Diktor executed my father for leniency
with his servants. The Diktor said he was undermining governmental
discipline. I took my mother and fled into space. I found a safe spot
on Yassinan. I built a pirate empire with your help. I'd offer up all
that—all the wealth we've amassed in Yassinan—to smash the setup
here!"
Tandor spat on his hand and rubbed his palm dry on the flat of his
bald dome. He said drily, "You make me mad, Angus. You aren't
satisfied with things. Always you have to change them. Isn't life full
enough for you now?"
Angus ignored him. "If I could get the Book of Nard and free Moana
and take her away to safety we might stand a chance. If we could
develop science undisturbed on Yassinan we could do it."
"Why fret about Moana?"
"She became my vow-companion. You know what that means to
somebody like the Diktor." Angus slapped his broad leather belt
decisively. "I'll do it. I'll go in his globe-ship and try and find the
Book. Tandor, you stay here. Raise men to fight for us."
The big man with the bald head nodded gloomily. He poured wine
from the wooden tankard, downed the brimming goblet in one long
gulp. He wiped his lips on the palm of his hand and rubbed it dry on
his bald head. "I hear you. I think you're mad but I hear you. What
are you going to do with that?"
His thumb jerked at the limp scientist in the long cowled robe. Angus
shrugged. "He'll come around. When he does I'll pretend I've fought
off his assailant. Meanwhile, you find out which globe-ship he means
to give me. Can you do that?"
The big man rumbled, "Tandor can do anything. I'll find out without
leaving the room." He lifted his voice and bellowed. When the door
opened and a red face peered in, Tandor grinned, "Find that wharf-
rat Plisket and send him in here."
Plisket limped in, grinning at Angus, bobbing his head. His eyes
opened when he heard what Tandor wanted. He chuckled, "The
hierarchy plot like a pack of fools. Everybody outside the Citadel
hates them. It happens I hate the Diktor more. They gave me gold
to build a ship."
"The Skimmer?" asked Tandor. "That wonder-boat you were telling
me about?"
"It is a wonder-boat. It incorporates the—"
"Never mind the details," rapped Angus, leaning his palms on the
table. "Is that the boat the hierarchy want me to use?"
"It must be. It's the only one unchartered. And Angus—if you are to
control it—remember that it will submerge. And it has four speeds,
two more than...."
Tandor slapped the table with his palm, making the goblets bounce.
"Enough, enough. Plisket, your tongue wags like a hound's tail.
Angus, are you ready?"
Angus stretched his tall, heavily shouldered body. He went and bent
his lean height over the shallow-breathing scientist and swung him
up in a fireman's hitch. He walked firmly, steadily, as he headed for
the oaken door.