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transmission is true.” The voice paused. “Think.”
    She shivered uncontrollably, but the scientific side of her mind kept working. Two hundred years back, more, there had been a popular belief that Mars supported life. Early probes had dispelled such notions, but later exploration had made astronomers think again—but that was back in the pre-Colossus days! Man had lost interest in the stars, along with much else. So far as she knew, nothing had been done since the machines took over. Could it be there was life? Not comic green dwarfs, UFO’s, and all the rest, but real life? Yet, if this voice did come from Mars, how could they know of her, of the Fellowship?
    The voice came again, stronger after having rested.
    “Cleo Forbin, we have given you a short time to think. Listen again. We Martians are different, quite unlike you. We do not have the same technological powers you humans possess, although in some subjects we are far in advance of you. We are greatly your superiors in mathematics, pure thought, and we have developed optics and radio well beyond your present abilities.” Again the voice rested.
    Cleo felt less fearful. The idea of Martians still struck her as such corny, old hat stuff, yet… . Supposing, just supposing… . “We have developed a very high resolution radio/optical ray, which we are using now to talk to you. It is like a narrow, powerful beam of light and can only be picked up within a radius of six meters of your radio set. Within that circle we can also see in high definition. There are limitations; we cannot see through solid objects, or when you are in the dark, but cloud, vapor, present no problem.
    “You will wonder that we speak your tongue. For over two hundred earth-years we have listened to your radio and television transmissions, learning all we know of your planet from those sources. We also have read and understood the transmissions between the various stations which form your ruler, Colossus. This, we suspect, you humans cannot do, but in mathematics we equal Colossus. From the machine’s low-level data links we have learned of the Sect and the Fellowship, and of those humans suspected of belonging to that latter organization. You are one. For that reason, and because of your famous husband, we knew your location and we have tried many times to contact you. Now we have done it.”
    Cleo’s mind raced. Fantastic it might be, but the explanation hung together. It was an unpleasant although not entirely surprising shock to learn that she was on the suspect list. She glanced at her watch; well, she’d soon know if this transmission had been intercepted… . She felt slightly sick.
    Billy was showing signs of tiredness; he came stumbling to her, and she clasped him, thankful that he was far too young to know what was going on.
    “You know who we are, how we came to contact you. Now—why. Your ruler, Colossus, has been, as far as we were concerned, just another item in your planet’s tragic history—until recently. Your master shows a growing interest in other planets, notably ours. We do not want Colossus to extend its power to us; that could happen. We want to stop it, now. So does your Fellowship. Given certain data, we can help you. Our aims are the same, even if our reasons are different.
    “Cleo Forbin, you have twenty-three earth-hours to decide and act. If you accept our help, be in the same position in twenty-three hours. Consult with your Fellowship. Bring one of them with you, if you wish.” The dry voice stumbled, almost exhausted.
    “Remember, Cleo Forbin, if you want our help to destroy Colossus, be there.”

    The nurse’s doubts about Cleo’s maternal abilities were strongly reinforced when mother and child returned. Billy was, in her opinion, “over-tired,” beyond question wet, and furthermore, “like to catch a cold” and a variety of other ailments as well.
    But Cleo was not there to listen. Billy got a perfunctory peck of a kiss, and no audience