"every reason to believe that he has been well treated and is unharmed."
"Thank God!" Her glance swept the half-circle of quiet, grim faces. "But, how did it happen? I knew he was on Planetoid 97, doing some special research work."
THE large, white-haired man wearing the four rockets of a full Space-Admiral, cleared his throat, gruffly. "Your boy was spared because of the invaluable nature of those experiments to any Power obtaining the results. He was kidnaped by enemy agents, before 97 was so treacherously attacked, and removed to Mars. The colony was wiped out."
"When did it happen?"
"Several Martian cruisers and one of their huge super-space-dreadnaughts appeared off 97 at 14:10 on the 23rd, two days ago, and blasted away without warning."
"You've had word of him, from Mars?" she guessed, bewildered.
"Yes, Mrs. Downs," said the President, gently, "we've had a message. In fact, your son was allowed to speak on the official Tele-audio wave-length this morning."
Mrs. Downs nodded. She knew about space-communicators. The official wave-length was used only between inter-planetary governments. No wonder the news audio hadn't mentioned his presence on Mars.
The President pressed a button on his desk. "We are about to play a recording of that message. Please listen—carefully. If you hear any words or phrases which positively identify your son's speech, let us know. This is very important."
A uniformed man entered with an audivor, which he rapidly set up on a table near the desk. He fiddled with the dials, and stepped aside.
A sonorous, hissing voice, speaking with a marked Martian accent, filled the room.
"People of Earth—listen to your doom. Our Imperial space-fleet has struck at all of your important outposts. We were prepared to blast your cities to dust, unless your government yields. Now, due to success of a pre-arranged plan, we are ready to carry an even more deadly threat to your planet."
"The treacherous, rotten rats!" muttered one of the space-captains.
The voice droned on, sibilantly. "We have in our possession, one of your space-officers, who is also a brilliant scientist. You know he had just completed experimenting with a new, deadly ore on Planetoid 97—zularite. We have persuaded him to join us, and in return for official honors and favor, he has turned the formula over to us. We are now ready to loose his lethal gas on Earth, wiping your population out completely, if you do not yield."
MRS. DOWNS felt her very marrow shrink. Her boy—a traitor! The last of a long line of Downs in the service of their country, betraying the flag! Why, there was even a Downs way back there in the First World War of the Twentieth Century, who commanded an American destroyer, with distinction. Yes, even before that—
Hugh's voice broke in on her horrified thoughts. At least, it sounded like his voice, but strangely apathetic, listless.
"This is Hugh Downs, formerly Space-Lieutenant in the Earth Federation Space-Navy. I am convinced that the glorious Martian Empire should rule all space and all planets."
Mrs. Downs' downcast eyes filled with bitter tears. It was true, then. Her little Hugh, with his sunny smile and flashing blue eyes—a Benedict Ar-
