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“It would be helpful in charting our course,” I admitted, smiling.

Inverness, with beautiful disregard for the necessities of space navigation, spread voluminous papers over the table whose surface was formed by the pair of three-dimensional charts which were the Ertak’s eyes in outer space.

“Our destination,” he said, “is a body designated on the charts as FX-31. You are familiar with it, Commander Hanson?”

“Hardly familiar,” I admitted, smiling at Correy. “The universe is rather sizable, and even the named bodies are so numerous that one is able to be familiar with but an exceedingly small percentage. Its designation, of course, gives me certain information regarding its size, location and status, however.”

“How much information, Commander?” asked Tipene nervously.

“Well, ‘F’ indicates that it is large; larger than Earth, for example. The numerals tells me where to locate it upon our space charts. And the ‘X’ would indicate that it is inhabited, but not by intelligent beings. Or that there is reasonable doubt as to the nature of those inhabiting it.”

“A very good summary of the knowledge we have,” nodded Inverness approvingly. “I can add but one bit of information which may or may not be accurate: that the sphere known as FX-31 is populated by a ruling class decidedly unusual in type, and possessed of a degree of intelligence which has made them virtual masters of the sphere.”

“What are they like?” asked Correy. “Will they put up a fight? Are they dangerous?”

* * * * *

“Our knowledge came from a luckless tramp liner which set down on FX-31 in search of water, their water-producing equipment having been damaged by carelessness. They found water, a great river of it, and sent a party of five men to determine its fitness for human consumption. They were snapped up before they had gone a hundred feet from the ship–and no more men were sent out. They hovered over the stream and drew up the water in containers devised for the purpose.”

“Snapped up?” asked Correy impatiently. “By whom? Or what?”

“By spiders!” replied Inverness, his eyes shining with the fanatical gleam of a scientist who scents something strange. “Great spiders–perhaps not true spiders, but akin to them, from the descriptions we have–of what is known on Earth as the trap-door variety, but possessed of a high degree of intelligence, the power of communication, and definitely organized.”

“Organized,” put in Tipene, “in the sense that they work together instead of individually; that there are those to command and those to obey.”

“You say they are large,” I commented. “How large?”

“Large enough,” said Inverness grimly, “to enable one of them to instantly overpower a strong man.”

I saw Correy glance forward, where our largest disintegrator-ray tubes were located, and his eyes lit up with the thought of battle.

“If there’s anything I hate,” he gritted, “it’s a spider. The hairy, crawling beasts! I’ll man one of the tubes myself, just for the fun of seeing them dissolve into nice brown dust, and–“

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Correy,” said Inverness, shaking his head. “We’re going to study them–not to exterminate them. Our object is to learn their history, their customs, their mode of communication, and their degree of intelligence–if possible.”

“Yes,” grunted Brady. “If possible.”

* * * * *

Kincaide set the Ertak down on FX-31, close to the shore of a river, as gently as a feather settling to earth. Correy and I made our way to the exit port, where Inverness and his companions had gathered, with a considerable amount of scientific apparatus, and what seemed to be a boat, ingeniously taken down for shipment.

All three of the scientists were clad in suits of some gray material, flexible as cloth, but possessed of a certain metallic sheen, which completely covered them. The material had been stiffened to form a sort of helmet, with a broad band of transparent material set in at the eye level, so that the wearer could see to both sides, as well as to the front. I could also discern the outlines of menores–the crude and cumbersome type of thought-transference instrument used in that day–apparently built into the helmets. Belted around their middles were atomic pistols of the latest and most deadly model.