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than any reptile Earth ever knew. He eats food, all right, but he only needs it to replace his body cells and to fuel his brain.”

“Oh, brother,” said Morey softly. “No wonder he can do the things he did! Why, he could have kept up that fight for hours without getting tired! Fatigue is as unknown to him as cold weather. He’d only need sleep to replace worn parts. His world is warm and upright on its axis, so there are no seasons. He couldn’t survive in the Arctic, but he’s obviously the ideal form of life for the tropics.”

As the two men found out later, Morey was wrong on that last point. The men of Torlos’ race had a small organ, a mass of cells in the lower abdomen which could absorb food from the bloodstream and oxidize it, yielding heat, whenever the temperature of the blood dropped below a certain point. Then they could live very comfortably in the Arctic zones; they carried their own heaters. Their vast strength was limited then, however, and they were forced to eat more and were more subject to fatigue.

Wade and Fuller had been trying to speak with Torlos telepathically, and had evidently run into difficulty, for Fuller called into the control room: “Hey, Arcot, come here a minute! I thought telepathy was a universal language, but this guy doesn’t get our ideas at all! And we can’t make out some of his. Just now, he seemed to be thinking of ‘nourishment’ or ‘food’, and I found out he was thinking of ‘heat’!”

“I’ll be right down,” Arcot told him, heading for the library.

As he entered, Torlos smiled at him; Arcot picked up his thought easily: “Your friends do not seem to understand my thoughts.”

“We are not made as you are,” Arcot explained, “and our thought forms are different. To you, ‘heat’ and ‘food’ are practically the same thing, but we do not think of them as such.”

He continued, explaining carefully to Torlos the differences between their bodies and their methods of using energy.

“Stone bones!” Torlos thought in amazement. “And chemical engines for muscles! No wonder you seem so weak. And yet, with your brains, I would hate to have to fight a war with your people!”

“Which brings me to another point,” Arcot continued. “We would like to know how the war between the people of Sator and the people of Nansal began. Has it been going on very long?”

Torlos nodded. “I will tell you the story. It is a history that began many centuries ago; a history of persecution and rebellion. And yet, for all that, I think it an interesting history.

“Hundreds of years ago, on Nansal⁠ ⁠…”

XVIII

Hundreds of years ago, on Nansal, there had lived a wise and brilliant teacher named Norus. He had developed an ideal, a philosophy of life, a code of ethics. He had taught the principles of nobility without arrogance, pride without stubbornness, and humility without servility.

About him had gathered a group of men who began to develop and spread his ideals. As the new philosophy spread across the planet, more and more Nansalians adopted it and began to raise their children according to its tenets.

But no philosophy, however workable, however noble, can hope to convert everyone. There always remains a hard core of men who feel that “the old way is the best way.” In this case, it was the men whose lives had been based on cunning, deceit, and treachery.

One of these men, a brilliant, but warped genius, named Sator, had built the first spaceship, and he and his men had fled Nansal to set up their own government and free themselves from the persecution they believed they suffered at the hands of the believers of Norus.

They fled to the second planet, where the ship crashed and the builder, Sator, was killed. For hundreds of years, nothing was heard of the emigrants, and the people of Nansal believed them dead. Nansal was at peace.

But the Satorians managed to live on the alien world, and they built a civilization there, a civilization based on an entirely different system. It was a system of cunning. To them, cunning was right. The man who could plot most cunningly, gain his ends by deceiving his friends best, was the man who most deserved to live. There were a few restrictions; they had loyalty, for one thing⁠—loyalty to their country and their world.

In time, the Satorians rediscovered the space drive, but by this time, living on the new planet had changed them physically. They were somewhat smaller than the Nansalians, and lighter in color, for their world was always sunless. The warm rays of the sun had tanned the skins of the Nansalians to a darker color.

When the Satorians first came to Nansal, it was presumably in peace. After so many hundreds of years without war, the Nansalians accepted them, and trade treaties were signed. For years, the Satorians traded peacefully.

In the meantime, Satorian spies were working to find the strengths and weaknesses of Nansal, searching to discover their secret weapons and processes, if any. And they rigorously guarded their own secrets. They refused to disclose the secrets of the magnetic beam and the magnetic space drive.

Finally, there were a few of the more suspicious Nansalians who realized the danger in such a situation. There were three men, students in one of the great scientific schools of Nansal, who realized that the situation should be studied. There was no law prohibiting the men of Nansal from going to Sator, but it seemed that Nature had raised a more impenetrable barrier.

All Nansalians who went to Sator died of a mysterious disease. A method was found whereby a man’s body could be sterilized, bacteriologically speaking, so he could not spread the disease, and this was used on all Satorians entering Nansal. But you can’t sterilize a whole planet. Nansalians could not go to Sator.

But these three men had a different idea. They carefully studied the speech and

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