THE MERCURIAN MENAGE

By Nelson S. Bond
Author of "The Message form the Void," etc.

"BUZZ" CARSON, chief space scout for Galactic Metals, Inc., tucked the wire mesh container under one arm and leaped lightly across the last of the jagged forty foot crevasses between him and his cruiser. Through his green quartzite headpiece, from the permalloy hull shimmered weirdly in the relentless sunlight. As he approached the ship, a group of round, brown little shapes clustered about the airlock began to bounce and wriggle expectantly. Buzz grinned.

"The reception committee," he muttered in amusement. "Carson of Galactic makes big hit with Mercurian marbles. Oh, well—Hey! Take it easy there, Rollie!"

One of the excited Rollies was bouncing up and down gleefully; joggling his tough, rubbery body against Carson's space suit in paroxysms of delighted anticipation. At the space scout's words he subsided into a trembling ball of hot leather; rolled smoothly and easily to the cruiser's entrance. Carson laid down his burden.

"All right, Rollies," he said good naturedly. "You know the rules around here. Which one of you is today's guest of honor?"

The Rollie nearest the airlock bounced up and down exuberantly. The others rolled back wistfully; spread circle-wise about the cruiser. Buzz took the tiny Mercurian in one hand.

"Okay," he grinned. "Come on in, pal, and get cool."

He took up his sample crate and pushed the button on the airlock. The other Rollies watched him disappear behind the wall of smooth metal, then swiftly rolled across the hard, sunbaked Mercurian plain to conceal themselves in ragged, shadowy caverns.

Inside the space-ship, as Buzz stripped himself of the cumbersome refrigerated suit that life on the innermost planet demanded, the guest Rollie tossed himself madly about the smooth, cool metal floor. Ballwise, he propelled himself around the room in giddy circles, his tough little body slap-slapping against the floor and walls in a frenzy of delight as he reveled in the delicious coolness of normal Earth temperature. Buzz chuckled as he watched.

"You're a nice little guy, Rollie," he said, "even if you do look like a hot basketball. How's for a nice, cool shower?"

The Rollie bounced crazily across the floor; hobbled about his bare feet.

"Wow! Beat it! You're hot!" exclaimed Carson. He grinned again.

"All right, my spherical comrade, let's go sprinkle ourselves with some good Earth water." Together the Earthman and the creature from Mercury sought the luxury of the spaceship's shower-room.

BUZZ, reveling in a riot of foamy soapsuds and cool water, dimly became aware of another sound pounding through the hiss of the shower. A metallic hammering sound. As of someone knocking at the hull of the cruiser. He pulled a wry grin.

"Hearing things!" he muttered mirthlessly. "And no wonder, after two years alone on this blasted hotbox planet! Sorry, Rollie. No offense to you and your buddies. But—"

Again the sound reached his ears. This time it was unmistakable. There was someone—or something—pounding on the airlock! But what? Who? On the lonely planet of Mercury? Buzz frowned. If it was those darned Rollies—

Hastily he tossed a bath-towel about his loins and strode through the spaceship to the airlock. He paused near his workbench to pick up a metal meterstick, then pushed the lever that operated the lock from the inside. The airlock wheezed and hissed; swung slowly open. Buzz stepped forward angrily.

"I told you fellows," he began impatiently, "you could only come in here one at a time. I've got half a notion to—"

His mouth, stopped in midsentence, became a round O of astonishment. The figure standing before him was that of a human! What was more—a girl human! Buzz gulped and turned brick-red; suddenly conscious of his scanty bath-towel.

"Whoa! Hold everything!" he gasped. "Come on in and sit down. I'll be right back!" Clutching the towel about him desperately, he fled across the floor to the shower-room. To the great disgust of the placid Rollie, he snapped off the water, flung himself into his clothing, and rushed back to his visitor. The Rollie trailed after him, dispiritedly oozing cold water from the deepset pores of his tough hide.

His guest had divested herself of her heavy space armor, and was lounging now in the light, graceful blouse and shorts favored for Earth summerwear. Her hair was a rich and warm chestnut bordering on auburn; her eyes, cool and amused, were like the cloudless skies above Mars. About her slightly wide, deliciously curved mouth, there hovered a faint smile. She rose and extended an arm in the universal Earth sign of greeting.

"Hello, exile," she smiled. "Surprised to see me, weren't you? Or do you always greet your visitors with a meterstick in one hand?"

"Y-yes," stammered Carson. "I mean—oh, no! Of course not! I thought you were a Rollie. I mean—I thought the Rollies were you. Oh, shucks! What I mean is, I've been out here two years without seeing an Earthling, and—"

The girl frowned momentarily; her keen blue eyes suspicious.

"Two years, you say?"

Buzz caught that studying gaze and grinned. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not space-cuckoo—if that's what you're wondering. It was just the shock of actually seeing another human being that upset me for a minute. And there were a flock of Rollies outside just before you came."

"Rollies? What are Rollies?"

"That's my own name for them," Buzz explained. "They are the natives of this section of Mercury. Maybe the only natives. Here, I'll show you one—" He turned and called to his Mercurian visitor, who had rolled comfortably under the electric refrigerator in the galley. "Hey, Rollie! Come on out and meet an Earth gal!"

THE "Earth gal" watched in wide-eyed amazement as the wet blob of leather rolled pleasantly across the room, rolled experimentally around her sandalled feet, then bounced gravely up and down as though to acknowledge the introduction. Buzz patted the tiny Mercurian and pushed him gently toward the galley passage. The Rollie spun swiftly, then whisked to his lair beneath the refrigerator.

"That's a Rollie," explained Carson. "Tough little footballs—but friendly. The only possible form of animal life that could exist here on the sunside of Mercury. The mean daily temperature here is 450 degrees Fahrenheit—and it's always day, since this side of the planet always faces the sun.

"The Rollies' leathery hides protect them from the Terrific heat of the sun, and their shape allows them to travel safely over Mercury's rocky, pitted surface. And do they love coolness! I've been letting them visit me, one at a time, ever since I landed here. Give them a cold shower and you've won a friend for life."

"But—but he seemed to understand what you said?"

"Sure. Rollies understand every word you say. Some sort of telepathy, I guess. And they're intelligent little creatures. But since they have no vocal organs, they can't talk back. If it weren't for that, they'd be darned good company. But say—who are you? Where did you come from? And where's your spaceship?"

"One at a time, please," laughed the girl. "First of all, I'm Jeryl Morrow, ore products investigator for Galactic Metals, sent out here to get your report. I arrived a half hour ago, Earth time. Landed as near as I could to your cruiser, which I spotted from the strato, and walked over."

"You know who I am, then?"

"Naturally. I know all about you—except what you have learned since you took over this station. That's what the company wants me to find out. Your term is over next year, and they'd like to have everything shipshape for the next Mercurian scout."

"Suits me fine," said Buzz cheerfully. "You can't imagine how good a glimpse of old Mother Earth would look to me right now. Seas and clouds and snow. And seasons. And night! Oh, boy! To see the sun go down for a change, and watch the sky grow dark. I've almost forgotten what the night looks like."

"That's strange! You must have seen plenty of night over on the dark side of Mercury."

"The dark side?" Carson stared at the investigator in amazement; then slowly shook his head. "No ma'am! Not Mr. Carson, lady. He stays away from the dark side of Mercury!"

"I'm not sure I understand you," said the girl slowly. "You mean to say that you've made no investigations whatsoever on the dark side?"

"My dear young lady," said Buzz seriously, "there are some things that even a space scout doesn't go out of his way to meet. I mean those things which don't concern him. Those things that got Henderson and Frizell. The things that destroyed Galactic's dark-side station in two weeks without even leaving a trace behind. The things that flicker through the twilight zone when you're walking near the border."

"Do you mean you're—afraid!" demanded the girl.

"Afraid? Sister, I'm scared stiff! Absolutely petrified. Don't look so surprised. After all, there's enough raw ore here on the sunside of Mercury to keep Galactic supplied for three centuries. Why should I, or any other man, tempt fate by going right into the lair of the flame-folk?"

"That's not the point," said Jeryl carefully. "The point is that your job is to study the ores of Mercury for Galactic; not to spend two solid years surveying one half of the planet. You must let me have a report on the dark-side metals."

"LISTEN," said Carson impatiently, "you're talking through your helmet! I have detailed reports on all of habitable Mercury. I have samples and analyses of every kind of metal that crops out of these rough hills and plains. I have assay fragments of gold, silver, platinum, iridium, tellium from the sun side. It stands to reason that the rest of the planet is the same. But I'll take that for granted. I'm not going over the border into the dark side for any man—or for any girl!"

Jeryl Morrow rose stiffly.

"Mr. Carson," she said coldly, "I've tried to be nice about this. But you've forced my position with your ridiculous attitude. Now listen carefully. I must have a dark-side report! You may consider that an order!"

Carson rose, his cheeks flaming.

"I always knew," he said angrily, "that a woman in space was a woman without brains! Now you listen! If you want a dark-side report, you can get it yourself. And—you may consider that a refusal!"

The girl's eyes traveled over Carson's well-knit body slowly. When she spoke, her voice was mocking.

"Yellow, eh? I didn't think any one man could be all they told me, back on Earth, that you were. All right, Mr. Carson—I will get that report myself. I'll show you whether spacewomen are fools. And when I get back to headquarters, we'll see what Galactic has to say about its great ace scout."

Carson's jaw set in a grim line.

"If you know when you're well off," he ground out, "you'll stay here—where it's safe!"

"I'll go where I choose," said the girl firmly. She stepped into her space armor deftly; stood before Carson. Her voice was metallic through the communication unit of her helmet. "You'll not change your mind?"

"No!"

"Very well, then," Jeryl Morrow strode to the airlock. "You might turn on your short wave to 9.56. I'm going into the dark side to establish a research base. I'll let you know how I'm making out. Goodbye, Mr. Carson!" Once more the airlock wheezed asthmatically as she stepped into it. Buzz took a swift step forward.

"Miss Morrow!" he cried. But there was no answer. The outer port clanged shut. Grimly, Buzz strode to his instrument panel; snapped on the shortwave radio. A slightly chilled ball rolled lazily across the floor and nestled at his feet. The Rollie.

"Oh, you!" demanded Carson fiercely. "Are you all one sex? Or are there female Rollies, too?"

The Rollie wriggled fretfully. Buzz sighed.

"Well—I guess it doesn't make any difference," he said. "A gal Rollie Wouldn't have red hair anyway. Or a rotten disposition. Like you, I mean—" he suddenly shouted in the general direction of the radio. The radio bummed and spluttered. Then, as if in answer to his comment, he heard the cool voice of Jeryl Morrow.

"Are you tuned in, Mr. Carson? Very well. Leave your dials where they are. I'm taking off now for the dark side." There came a light, taunting laugh. "To see your bogeymen. You'll hear from me later. . . ."

"Hey! For goodness sakes—stop it! What the—!"

Buzz stared in shocked bewilderment. The Rollie seemed to have suddenly gone mad. No longer quiet and relaxed, the tiny Mercurian began to pound up and down before him in a mad tattoo.

Tap-tap-tap! his leathery little body sounded on the hard metal floor. Tap-tap-tap!

CARSON stared. Then suddenly he recognized that there was more than mere chance; there was some intended meaning behind the frenzied activity of the speechless ball. Something had excited the little visitor to an unusual extent. Could it be the radio? Something Jeryl had said? About the dark side?

Swiftly he whirled on the bouncing Mercurian.

"Rollie—what is it? Something about the dark side you want to know?"

The Rollie lay quiet, quivering with suppressed excitement.

"Bounce once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'," ordered Buzz. "Now—is it about the dark side, Rollie?" The Rollie bounced once emphatically; then subsided into tense quiescence.

"Danger there?" continued Buzz frantically.

Again his little friend bounced a single loud tap.

"What kind of danger? From people—oh, darn it! Rollie, if you could only talk! Wait a minute. I have it! If I follow her, can I help? Will I be able to protect her?"

Tap-tap. Ominously.

"Then what. . . how. . . ?" Eagerly Carson clutched at a tenuous straw. "Can you help her, Rollie?"

A deliberate tap, followed by a rapid tap-tap.

"Yes—No?" Buzz frowned. Then, "I see! Not you alone—but you and your brothers! Is that it?"

Breathlessly he watched as the Rollie tapped once. Then he began to throw himself into his space armor. The Rollie rolled eagerly to the airlock; waited there expectantly. Within seconds the two were standing on the hot, dry plain outside the cruiser. Shrilly Carson whistled. In answer to the Earthman's signal from a hundred rocky caverns in the stark desolation came swiftly rolling brownish balls. Over hubble and detritus, from crevice and cranny, the tiny Rollies tumbled and bounced their way to the space cruiser. They paused in a thickly strewn circle before the Earthman, wiggling curiously. Carson wet his lips. He felt silly, standing there talking to a group of hot little basketballs, but beneath his sense of the absurd was a stronger force. Fear.

"Rollies," he said, "something's wrong. I'm not sure I understand what it is—but your brother here does. A girl from Earth, a newcomer here, has just gone over to the dark side of the planet."

A quivering shudder seemed to course through the leathery horde. Taut nerves tightened in Buzz.

"I understand that you Rollies are able to help her. Will you do it?"

There was a surging forward movement as the Rollies, with one accord, tossed toward him. Carson plunged the key that controlled the airlock. Hot brown balls jiggled about his feet, crowding into the ship.

"Come on, then!" shouted Buzz. "Pile in! We're going after her. Into the dark side!"

There was a dreadful sort of jest in the way that cheerful voice spoke intermittently over the one-way radio. Standing by the controls, Buzz ground his teeth helplessly as he listened to Jeryl's mocking taunts.

"—nearly through the mountains now, and it's too bad you're not with me, Carson. They are quite a sight as they flame, crimson and gold, in the brilliant sun. I hope you'll find time to study them sometime. But perhaps they are too near the twilight zone to suit you—"

THE ship was throbbing with vibration; its usual stability disturbed by the mad acceleration Carson was jamming Through the rocket jets. The main tubes of the space cruiser were flaming spouts of fire in the Mercurian strato; the ship itself a flashing streak of silver arcing above the tiny metal planet. Great motors whined and groaned as Buzz shoved the control lever to its highest acceleration notch.

"—can see the twilight zone ahead now," continued the undisturbed voice. "Strange. I should have expected some sort of vegetation here. But there is none. And I can see a thin black line ahead now, Carson, with darkness hanging above and beyond it like a velvet curtain. That reminds me—you wanted to see the night again, didn't you? I see it now. Perhaps you should have come with me—"

Through the perilens Carson caught a glimpse of the small, rapidly moving spaceship. Her ship. Ahead of him and moving swiftly toward the dark-side boundary. A great exultation swept over him. He might make it! He might succeed in stopping her before she crossed over; grounded on that inhospitable, macabre terrain. . . .

"—am turning off the refrigerating unit now, and switching on the heat. No bright sunshine here, Carson. It is growing quite dark—"

She had made it then! She was through the twilight zone. On the dark side!

"Damn you!" cried Carson to the radio. "Damn your beautiful, stubborn jets! Turn around! Come back! Don't try to land there!"

"—but it isn't entirely dark—" There was an odd, strained note of hesitancy in the girl's voice. The Rollies, piled in heaps of spherical brown beside Carson in the control room, quivered as a solid body. One bounced, explosively, to the ceiling. "—there are strange little green flares moving through the blackness. Odd. A sort of St. Elmo's fire, I suppose. Or a sort of cold will-o'-the-wisp. At any rate, I understand what caused your fear of the 'flame folk,' Carson. But you were wrong. I can see them quite plainly now. They are not beings at all. Just a phenomenon of the cold—"

Carson groaned and tugged vainly at the already strained controls. Oh, for one more burst of transcendent speed! All too well he knew those "green flares"! Knew what they could do, anyway. He had been a member of the party that had gone out to find out what had become of Henderson's ill-fated dark-side base. He had seen, from above, those seared black cicatrices on the bleak, rimy soil of the dark-side. Had seen—and shuddered. Had understood—and returned to the safety, light and warmth of the sun-side. If this girl landed her ship. . .

"Jeryl!" he cried. But even as he spoke, he knew his words were vain. She, too, was speaking from the radio.

"—am landing now," said that laughing voice. "I must sign off for a moment. I'll be with you later—"

Suddenly the cab of Carson's cruiser was thick with darkness. Through impenetrable black his fingers groped for the light switch; snapped it on. He, too, was through the twilight zone. He had reached the blackness of the dark-side. But would he be too late? Swiftly he clicked on the search beam; swung its wide arc groundward, searching for Jeryl's ship.

One of the Rollies was bouncing against his legs insistently. He looked down. All of the others were herded by the airlock, their massed, brown bodies strangely comforting sights in this strange, frozen silence. Carson nodded his understanding. They wanted to be released instantly at the moment the other ship was sighted. He turned back to his controls; knuckles white on the propulsion rod.

THEN suddenly a loud scream tore through the narrow control room. Jeryl's voice raised in horror!

"Carson! Buzz! Help!" There was a moment of frying static, then, "Buzz —you were right! They are alive! The green things, I mean. I can see them through my perilens, clustering about me. Hundreds of them. They seemed to be gathering. Now they're moving toward the spaceship!

"And my controls won't work! Buzz—they've gone dead on me! The lights are out! Out! It's a dreadful sea of blackness. And those green flares moving toward my ship—"

Great beads of perspiration dripped coldly from Buzz Carson's forehead. His strong hands trembled on the propulsion rod. Helpless! Trapped by that damned green horde. But where? In the name of the Nine Planets—where?

His eyes, glued to the perilens, caught a fitful gleam of baleful green. Hastily he swung the ship toward the hideously glowing patch of color. It was she! It was the grounded ship—encircled by the flame folk from the frigid hell of the dark-side.

Carson's hands, steel-tensed as the claws of a robot, swung the ship into a hovering circle. The flaming rocket-tubes choked and died suddenly as Carson swept down like a shrieking demon of vengeance.

No time for a careful landing. Already the radio was spitting and fizzing with an excess of static; the words of the girl coming through fitfully. "—not afraid to die. . . but. . . should have believed what you told me. . .Buzz. . . if I had only—" Then the ground was a tangible force rising up to smash at the ship. Recklessly, Buzz shot a staggering repulsion beam from the nose jet. The ship jolted, reeled . . . then settled to the ground with a grinding bump.

In a flash, Carson was at the airlock; his hand on the release lever. The door swung open. Then suddenly a tough, solid object struck him heavily on the breast; bowled him over like a ten-pin. One of the Rollies!

And Carson saw the meaning of this crude warning. This was their fight—not his! Dazedly he crawled back to the control room; focused the perilens on the ragged shelf of the Mercurian dark-side landscape.

Across a bleak and desolate frozen plain, not fifty feet distant from his own cruiser, was the other space ship. A dark, sullen mass; unlighted and grim. About it, circling in an ever-narrowing net, a host of the greenish flame-folk stood; their ghoulishly phosphorescent bodies flickering pallidly against the dreadful umbra. Tall as two men, they were. Slim, ever-changing wisps of light that glimmered like the cold fox-fire of distant Earth.

From their tractile bodies strange pseudopods of flame licked out again and again. Ghastly emanations that simulated the limbs of flesh-and-blood creatures. There was no recognizable substance or shape that composed them. Only a constant flux of quavering motion, somehow baleful and threatening. Their light was a light that cast no gleam among them. It seemed self-contained. The light of absorption.

The unbroken circle that had surrounded the other ship was ruptured now. Some of the flame folk had noticed the new cruiser. Already a tiny group of the green flame-folk were moving across the metal plain to investigate. There was a quivering excitement in the creatures' fitful gleaming. A sort of greedy, licking hunger in their cold presence.

A CHILL of repugnance swept through Carson. Then he swung the perilens around to sight the airlock of his own ship.

Darkness! Black, deep, impenetrable darkness! Buzz gnawed his lips. Had the Rollies come out? Were they somewhere in that dismal void, organizing, forming their ranks for some strange warcraft? He could not see them anywhere. Those bouncing, bubbling little spheres of friendliness-what had happened to them?

Then suddenly, amazingly, something happened! One of the green flame-folk, the nearest of the investigating party approaching Carson's ship, writhed as though in a convulsion of pain! Writhed into a towering spiral of greenish flame that twisted into the black sky and disappeared!

And in its place another figure appeared. A flame of warm, ruby light that pulsed and glowed with a fervor like—like that of an avenging host! Buzz gasped! It was impossible—but it was true! This must be the work of the Rollies. The battle was begun.

Another of the green flame-folk shot, rocketlike, to a streaming spiral of curling pain; quivered and collapsed into a glowing red flame. And another . . . and another! Suddenly there was panic amongst the handful of invaders, and like gaunt will-o'-the-wisps the few about Carson's cruiser swept back toward their fellows.

There was a congealing of the horde of green demons; a baleful conference of evil. Wavering tentacles of spirit light hovered about the dark-side inhabitants, and an ominous pulsating strength shuddered through their ranks. One of the green flares uncurled himself from around the prow of the girl's cruiser. Where he had embraced the spaceship, smooth metal was charred and blackened; burned deep in a channeled groove.

Jeryl's voice, suddenly bell-like and clear, spoke from the radio.

"Buzz! Your ship! I see it in my perilens. Then you came? But what's happening? The green things are going away. What are those red flames? Are they enemies, too? Or friends? Did you bring them?" There was a moment of silence, then the girl's voice broke suddenly with horror. "Buzz—my ship! It's been broken. Burned into! The air is leaking!"

Agonizedly, Carson, waited for her next words. Cold sweat beaded his forehead; a clutching hand was at his throat.

"I'm putting my space suit on," came the voice once more. "I'm going to try to make it—through them—to your ship. If I fail—"

Then Carson acted. Like a madman he tore toward the airlock; waited impatiently as the lock operated to loose him to the frozen metal plain. Rollies or no Rollies, he had to get into this fight, too. Jeryl could never get through that macabre green host alone.

He reached the plain outside. Thankfulness touched his heart that the gravity of Mercury was so slight. That sturdy Earth muscles, even hampered by the leaden weight of a space suit, could carry one enormous distances at a single leap.

In the flood of the searchlight he saw the girl's slim figure stumble from the airlock of the other ship. He bounded toward her. A wavering green light flickered toward him. He eluded its tactile fingers, scarcely knowing why. Another step now. . . .

Then the greenish flare enveloped him for a fraction of an instant—and his senses reeled! Pain, sharp and indescribable, flooded him to the roots of every nerve. He was numb. Numb and cold with an unearthly coldness. His feet failed him. He fell forward on his face; drained of every ounce of energy.

A BLINDING flash of color flamed before him. The brilliant, cornscating color of giant forces met in mighty conflict. Suddenly the coldness left him as his green attacker left to join the rest of the green horde which, en masse, was advancing to meet the ruby-colored invaders.

Instantly the dismal landscape was lit with the ghastly flares of unearthly combat. Fulgurant streamers of fire were flung to the skies as the forces of the baleful flame-folk struck back against the strange necromancy of the Rollies! Pallid green and scintillant ruby met in beams of blinding energy; swayed and tossed like maddened fingers of light. Shattered into dripping sparks of blazing color!

Here a gigantic green unit swallowed its reddish foe, gleamed strangely with an inexplicable color beyond the spectrum, and shimmered into caliginous gloom. There an omnipotent pillar of ruby fire whirled like a gigantic spout of flame into and through the massed green horde; striking, absorbing, destroying all that stood in its path. From out of nowhere a flame of Red would emerge, darting, swift as light, to the very heart of the fray.

Like a thousand lightnings the warriors from the Mercurian antipodes met, flamed and died in that titanic struggle. And ever, inexorably, the pulsing glow of the ruby flames spread as the green horde dwindled. Doggedly, stubbornly, the dark-side demons fought at first. Then, as one by one of their fellows writhed into spires of stricken flame, died and emerged as red foes to turn upon their own brethren, the remaining few retreated until the battleground was clear of all save the ruby flames.

And, as the last of the green horde disappeared into the black depths, Carson was on his feet again, stumbling and panting to the side of the girl. Stumbling because all about him, strewn like giant pods, were the inert leathery bodies of the Rollies. And about him, too, warm and protecting, were the flame-giants of ruby that the Rallies, somehow, had managed to loose. . . .

"Buzz!" Jeryl's glad cry was sweet in his ears, even distorted through the metallic eardrums of his helmet. Swiftly he gathered her into his arms. Together they moved toward the cruiser. A tear choked the girl's voice as they passed one of the tiny, rubbery balls.

"The Rollies," she said. "They saved us—but they lost their lives in doing it. And all because I was stubborn."

"But we did not lose our lives," said a quiet, gentle voice. "Our lives are eternal; indestructible. We are here."

Carson and the girl stared at each other; suddenly realizing the same thing. No voice had spoken to them. No real voice. A thought had entered their minds. And before them, slowly revolving, was one of the ruby flames that had conquered the green flame folk. From its glowing depths emanated the waves that came to the mass thoughts.

"Yes, this is our true form, Buzz Carson," continued the thought. "We are really as you see us now—creatures of positive electrical energy. Our foes and hated enemies were the green folk of the dark side—creatures of negative energy. Ours is the more progressive race; the more peace loving. That is why many centuries ago, we developed for ourselves those 'bodies' in which we live on the sun-side of our world. Porous leathery bodies through which we can freely absorb the life-giving wealth of the sun.

"Of course, as 'Rollies'," the pulsating pillar continued whimsically, "we cannot do some of the things we used to do in the ancient days of our planet's grandeur. We cannot talk—or visit the planets as we used to centuries ago—"

Jeryl clutched Carson's arm.

"Visit other planets!" she cried. "Buzz—it's almost incredible, but it must be true! Remember what some of our old legends and religious books tell us? About strange visitors that came as a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night?"

CARSON whirled eagerly on the ruby entity. "Is that true? Were you the ones who—?"

But there was no answer. Slowly, easily, the ruby creature was seeping into the porous hide of one of the inert Rollies that lay strewn on the frigid plain. All about them, others of the red warriors were seeking their sun-side shells. Suddenly the plain was alive with a host of tiny, tossing brown bodies that rolled briskly toward the airlock. Friendly little creatures. Rollies once more. Buzz grinned.

"All right, boys," he shouted cheerfully, "if that's the way you want it to be—you're the boss! And from now on, the shower-room is open all day long!"

"Buzz—" Jeryl began hesitantly.

"Woman," Buzz Carson silenced her brusquely, "will you hurry up and get into the cruiser? I've been two long years alone on this planet—and I'll be darned if I can kiss you through a headpiece!"