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“Like something you’d cook up, Mr. Correy!” I said promptly. “And I believe, as you do, that if it works at all, we’ll find out something interesting.”

We equipped ourselves with menores, adjusted to maximum power, and silently filed into the stateroom adjacent to Tipene’s.

He was moving about slowly, apparently undressing, for we heard first one boot and then another drop to the floor. And we could sense vague emanations, too faint to be intelligible, and unmistakably coming from him.

“Probably sitting on the edge of his bunk,” whispered Correy. “When he lies down, it’ll work like a charm!”

It did–almost too well. Suddenly we caught a strong emanation, in the Universal language.

* * * * *

“Surly individual, that Hanson–didn’t like my giving orders–hurt his dignity. But I had my own way, and that’s all that’s important. Seemed to be suspicious–they all were. Maybe I was a bit urgent–but I was afraid–those damned Aranians might have changed their spidery minds.

“They can’t be very intelligent–to think I’d come back with tribute to pay for the spiders that fool Hanson and his men killed. Why, the ship’s rays could wipe them all out, drill a hole in the ground–they didn’t realize that. Thought that by holding Brady and that conceited Inverness for hostages, they’d be safe–and I’d be idiotic enough to not see this chance to get all the glory of the expedition for myself–instead of sharing it with those two. You’re a quick thinker, Tipene–the true, ruthless, scientific mind….”

I motioned for my officers to follow me, and we made our way, silent and grim-faced, to the navigating room.

“Nice, friendly lad, isn’t he?” snarled Correy. “I thought there was something up. What are your plans, sir?”

“We’ll go to the rescue of Inverness and Brady, of course. Mr. Correy, place Tipene under arrest, and bring him here at once. Mr. Kincaide, take over the ship; give orders to set her down where we were. And you, Mr. Hendricks, will take personal command of the forward ray tubes.”

My officers sprang to obey orders, and I paced restlessly up and down the room, thinking. Just as the Ertak settled softly to earth, Correy returned with his prisoner. Two men stood on guard with drawn atomic pistols at the door.

“What’s the meaning of this indignity, sir?” flared Tipene. He had dressed hurriedly, and was by no means an imposing spectacle. He drew himself up to his full height, and tried to look domineering, but there was fear in his eyes. “I shall report you–“

“You’ll do no reporting, Tipene,” I broke in coldly. “I’ll do the reporting. You see, we know all about your little plan to desert your comrades, held by the Aranians as hostages, and to grasp all the glory of your findings for yourself. But–the plan doesn’t work. We’re going back.”

* * * * *

Tipene’s face drained a dirty yellow–a Zenian can never be actually pale.

“You … how….” he floundered.

“A menore, under your pillow,” I explained crisply. “But that doesn’t matter, now. You will guide us to the spot where you found the Aranian city, and establish communication with the Aranians. When that’s done, I’ll give you further orders.”

“And if I won’t?” breathed Tipene, his teeth clenched in a shaking rage.

“But you will. Otherwise, we’ll permit you to continue your explorations on this interesting little sphere–minus your protective suit.”

Tipene stared at me with horror-stricken eyes. I think he saw that I meant exactly what I said–and I was not bluffing.

“I–I’ll do it,” he said.

“Then watch the river carefully,” I ordered. “Kincaide, lift her just enough so we can get a good view of the river. Tipene will tell you where to set her down.”