Instants before the fighter-craft must have smashed itself to a fireball, the strange voice sounded again in Roffa’s inner ear.

Well done, Roffa! You have learned obedience. Now, pull out of the dive!

Roffa obeyed and missed destruction by a hair’s breadth.

The young pilot was severely disciplined by his squadron commander.

You are extremely lucky not to be court-martialled for dangerous flying. As it is, you will be grounded for a lunar month and suffer a loss of pay for that period.

Again the voice in Roffa’s inner ear.

A month with no duties, Roffa. Just the opportunity you need.

Meanwhile, on the grim prison fortress of the Isle of Despair . . .

Janno was taking his daily exercise in the high-walled courtyard.

























Where are those guards taking that tray of food?

To Raspardi—who else?

Raspardi was the biggest international criminal on Elekton, with ten million thullars on his head. They keep him in solitary confinement in the black tower.

Hey, you! Stop talking!

A voice echoed in Janno’s inner ear . . .

Did you hear that, Janno—the black tower?

I heard!

That same night, two figures met in the Great Square of Trigan City, under the statue of the Emperor Trigo.

If you are he who arranged to meet me here, give the password.

The password is . . . “treachery”!

You have the plans of Trigan’s new bombing craft?

I have it here. First you will hand over the agreed sum of money . . .

The next moment, the plotters were bathed in glaring light.

Aaaaaah! It’s a trap!

Both conspirators ran, and one of them fell right into the hands of the law.

Aaaaaaaghhh!

It’s . . . Roffa!