The elevator opened directly into the office of the Matriarch and Curt stared curiously about him as the dark-haired woman dismissed the guards and slammed the door of the cage. He stood, a rumpled figure in his torn slacks and blouse, and his slender body seemed vibrant with a new strength as he stared at the ruler of Earth with his peculiar scintillant grey eyes. In turn Sarah Bowman stared at the man who was her one hope of life.
She had aged in the past thirty minutes, her cheeks sagging and her faded eyes burning with desperation. Against one wall the wide face of the electronic clock seemed to stare at her with inner mockery, and, feeling stifled in the confines of the room, she had flung open the high windows. They led on to a small terrace, a piece of architecture designed for orn
