Unto My Manifold Dooms

'Twelve, helmet lock,' Robson's voice rattled from the external speaker of his pressure suit.

'Twelve,' Sonny Greer echoed, glancing at the red ar­rows now point-to-point on the helmet and shoulder plate, then banging the closed latch with his fist. 'Aligned and locked.'

'Thirteen, bleed valve,' Robson read from the checklist mounted on the bulkhead.

'Thirteen, closed,' Sonny tapped the other man's suit with his knuckles.

'Fourteen, patch kit.'

'Fourtee . . .'

'What are you doing, Sonny, just what in the hell do you think you are doing?' Captain Hegg broke in, stomp­ing across the airlock chamber towards them.

'Helping the prof with his checklist—I thought that was obvious, Cap'n.'

'Helping to kill him maybe. You are going to have to take this kind of thing more seriously. You didn't check that bleeder valve.'

'I looked at it, the handle is up and down like it always is. Closed—and I've never seen one of them open yet.'

'But you don't know until you have checked it,' Hegg insisted with slow patience. 'The handle might be broken, or turned a half turn.'

'But it's not, see Cap'n.' The tiny handle did not move when he pushed on it. 'So I was right all along.'

'You were not, Sonny. You did not follow checklist rou­tine, that is all that matters.'

'Mea culpa,' Sonny insisted, raising his hands in mock surrender, grinning disarmingly. 'Have patience with my youth, Cap'n, and I promise never to do it again.'

'See that you don't.'

'You don't think I'm out to kill you, do you, Prof?' Sonny asked, looking ruefully away from the retreating back of the captain. 'If you were dead who could I possi­bly win a chess game from once in a while?'

'That's just Hegg's way, you know.' Robson's smile could just be made out through the thick viewplate of his helmet. 'He is really a good type, but terribly hardwork­ing. He means well.'

'But why is it always my neck that gets caught in the bear trap when he is meaning well?'

Robson shrugged. We had better finish running through the checklist. I want to get those sample traps in before dark.'

'Right you are, Prof. We'll pick it up from fourteen.'

Sonny watched through their single-view port as Cap­tain Hegg and Robson, slow and clumsy in their pressure suits, clambered over the nearby ridge and vanished from sight among the strangely earth-like trees. He shook his head, not for the first time, at the unreasonableness of it all.

'How about a grme?' Arkady called from his bunk, holding up his pocket chess set. 'I'll spot you a rook.'

'Why commit suicide? You even won that game when you had no queen.'

'Just your bad luck, Sonny. With a queen ahead you could even win against the great Botvinnik, may his mem­ory be revered, if you would remember to just keep ex­changing.'

'Yeah, but I keep forgetting. Look, Ivan Ivanovitch, look out there at a sunny day on Cassidy-2. Wind in the trees, grass growing, maybe just a teensy tinge of green to the air that isn't quite earthlike. Doesn't it make you want to shuck off your clothes and go out and take a walk?'

'Makes you want to be dead in five seconds,' Arkady answered heavily, setting up a problem on the board. 'The air out there is rich with deadly poisons and a mixture of hydrogen and methane that would burn with a lovely flame in this room. Or in your lungs. Even the stones would burn in our air. Look how wonderfully Reshevsky sank Euwe back in middle ages, 1947.'

'Aw, come on, you know what I'm talking about. I could give you lectures about the nrtural wonders of this world. Remember I'm the mineralogist here and you are just a thick-headed Russky mining engineer. . . .'

'I go back to salt mine in morning.'

'. . . I'm talking about romance, emotion, art. Look out there. A world as close as the thickness of this wall, yet more unattainable than Earth, which happens to be light-years away. Don't you feel it? Don't you want to go out there?'

'I go out there without my suit I'll be dead in five sec­onds.'

'You're an unimaginative clod. If you are the end prod­uct of the Glorious Revolution I say bring back the Czar.*

'Da. It's your turn to cook today.'

'How could I forget? I was awa'ice all night worrying about what to make for dinner. Will caviar go with beef stroganoff? Is the vodka cold enough?'

'Dehydrations and coffee will be fine with me,' Arkady answered imperturbably, concentrating on the chess board. 'You just torture yourself.'

'I'm worried about young Greer,' Captain Hegg said, after carefully making sure that he was talking through his suit speaker and that his radio was turned off.

'Sonny is a good chap,' Robson answered, plodding along at his side. 'He's not as young as all that either. He has his doctorate, he's done some very original work. I've read some of his papers.'

'It's not his work that bothers me. If he couldn't do it Spatial Survey would never have sent him out on this job. If there are the right kind of mineral deposits here he will find them and Barabashev will find a way to get the stuff out. I don't know anything about that, but I do know my job, which is running this expedition and seeing that everyone stays alive. And Sonny Greer is too careless out here.'

'He has had field experience before."

'On Earth,' Hegg snorted. 'Antarctic, jungles, deserts. Kid stuff. This is his first offplanet trip and he is not se­rious enough about it. You know what I mean, professor.'

'Only too well—since this is my eighth survey. And I am much more supernumerary than you are, let us not forget. The only reason the higher powers include a food-consuming ecologist such as I on these junkets is to stress the scientific value of new-planet work and to get a bigger appropriation come budget time. I have developed a very relaxed attitude towards this sort of thing from being on these expeditions, yet always being a bit on the outside. Give the chap enough time and keep after him. He'll catch on. Don't you remember me on my first expedition? Tanarik-4?'

Hegg laughed. 'How could any of us forget it? It must have been a month before the smell washed off.'

'Then you see what I mean. Everyone is green as grass at the start. He'll come around.'

'I suppose you are right.'

'There's something in my trap—look! A serpentoid and I swear—it has six legs!'

Two of the other traps also contained samples of the local life forms, and it took some time for Robson to poi­son them and transfer them to the sealed carrying case. There was no possible way to bring living specimens back to earth, or even to keep them alive in the dome with the restricted means available. The animals would have to be dissected and preserved in sealed plastic.

It was sunset when they started the trek back with the heavy carrying case, and it was dark long before they had reached the dome. But the directional beam came in clearly and the light on top of the radio mast was visible while they were still two kilometres away. Air might have been a problem, they were both on their reserve tanks, but they had more than enough left for the remaining time. The outer door of the lock was open and Hegg pulled it shut behind them, spun the wheel to seal it, then began the atmosphere evacuation pumps. Robson turned on the cleansing showers to wash away all traces of the alien at­mosphere and soil from their suits.

The shower roared briefly, then died to a weak trickle.

"The tank is empty,' Hegg said, looking at the indicator on its side. 'Who was supposed to refill it?'

'Sonny—I think,' Robson said hesitatingly. 'But I'm not really sure of the roster.'

'I'm sure,' Hegg said grimly. He spun to the intercome phone on the wall of the lock chamber and leaned on the bell button.

'What's up?' the tiny speaker buzzed. 'This station on call day and ni . . .'

'You did not fill the shower tank, Greer. It is on your duty roster for today.'

'You're right, Cap'n. Clean slipped my head worrying about dinner and all. Soon as you get inside I'll get right on it.'

'Can you tell me how we are going to get back inside if we can't rinse?'

There was only silence for long seconds. Then, 'I'm sorry about that. Just an accident. Is there anything we can do?'

'You're damn right there is. Get the drill and chuck in a bit with a diameter smaller than the filling hose from the reserve cans. Shave down the end of the hose, then one of you stand by with the tank while the other one drills a hole. As soon as the drill is through jam in the end of the hose—and I mean fast. You'll have a positive pressure on your side, so you'll be all right. We're in our suits. Then let in the shower fluid. We'll wash under the hose.'

'It sounds dangerous, Captain. Isn't there anything else.'

'No. Do it that way, and do it now!'

'I'm surprised they didn't build the tank in there with a pipe so it could be filled from in here.'

The principle is to have as few openings as possible in a sealed bulkhead—and we can discuss the shortcomings of the designers some other time. Get that drill now!'

Captain Hegg waited stolidly while the endless seconds dragged by, but Robson could not control his growing concern. He kept glancing at his oxygen reserve indicator, tapping it nervously. The needle was almost to the empty mark. He jumped, startled, when a sudden shrill whining came from the silicon bronze wall. The whining slowed to a steady grinding noise and the black nose of the drill bit burst through the metal. It was jerked out and the hiss of incoming air ended abruptly as the tip of the hose plugged the opening. Liquid gushed from it.

'Do a good job of washing—and don't bother to look at your oxygen dial,' Hegg said. 'There is an unmarked safety reserve in all these tanks. We have more than enough time to do a complete job here.'

They scrubbed quickly with the heavy brushes, taking turns to wash the inaccessible parts of each other's suits. Robson had a stifling sensation that he knew was wholly imaginary and had to fight back an urge to scream when Hegg methodically washed the sample boxes, tilting them on end to get at their bottoms. More minutes dragged by as he went over them both, then carefully over the floor, with the sniffer. He found two suspect spots near the drain and had Robson scrub them while he finished clearing the area.

'All clean,' Hegg said, straightening up. 'And atmos­phere evacuation is complete. Start the air pump and I'll crack the door.'

Air hissed in, but even though the inner door was un­locked it stayed sealed, held in place by the difference in atmospheric pressure. Robson stood before it, clenching his sweat-damp fingers inside the armoured gloves, fighting to appear as calm as Captain Hegg at his side. The sound of incoming air stopped and the door opened before them. Robson fumbled at the latch to unseal his helmet. Hegg already had his off, placed carefully in the rack, before he stalked into the dome, straight to the white-faced Sonny Greer who stood against the far wall.

'Do you know what you did? Do you have any idea just what you did?'

The words surprised the captain, because that was not what he had meant to say at all. Nor had he intended vio­lence, yet his fist was clenched and his arm drawn back. Christ, he thought to himself, do I want to kill the kid? Toughened by experience on a dozen high-gravity worlds, his fist in that metal gauntlet would break the man's jaw, maybe his neck. It took more effort to relax than he had thought possible and he had to rub at the cable-hard mus­cles in his neck to force away the tension.

'I said that I was sorry, Captain. I mean that *

'Will you get this through your thick head? Being sorry won't help me if I'm dead. You have had expedition ex­perience before—earthside experience. What happens in the bloody Gobi desert or wherever you worked, if you don't fill the shower?'

'I '

'I'll tell you what happens. Nothing happens. Someone maybe stays dirty for a while but that is all. And what happens here if you forget to fill this shower? Two men can die, that is what can happen! Does the difference penetrate, mister bloody stupid schoolboy?'

Sonny Greer's face was red, then suddenly white with suppressed rage. Robson was watching from the doorway where he stood, his helmet in his hands.

'Easy on, Captain,' he said in a worried voice. 'There's no need for all of this.'

'No, the captain is right,' Sonny broke in, his voice shaking, whether from anger or other emotion was hard to tell. T deserved that. And I'd lose my temper myself if someone pulled a stunt like that on me.' Arkady watched but said nothing.

Captain Hegg turned his back and became involved in removing his pressure suit so that the others could not see his face. He felt that his lips were pulled back from his teeth like an animal ready to bite, and a small, cool part of his consciousness wondered at the unexpected ferocity of his reaction. Moving with unhurried precision, he forced himself to remove and stow the suit before he spoke. He was in control of himself again. Arkady was helping Robson with his armour in the lock chamber; they could hear what was being said but not interrupt.

'Listen, Greer. I have nothing personal against you, I hope you realize that.' His voice was normal.

'I know that Cap'n. You're rough but square.'

Hegg chose to ignore the hint of amusement in Sonny's tones.

'I'm glad you realize that, so you will understand that what I am going to do has no personal prejudice but is done by the book and for the good of the expedition as a whole. Have you ever heard of a planetary inefficiency rating?'

'No.'

'I didn't think you had. It is not a secret, but at the same time it is also not talked about much. The rules are simple. Two strikes and you are out. Out of the expedi­tion, out of Spatial Survey and out of a job. You have just had your first strike.'

'What do you mean. .. ?'

'I mean exactly what I say. When I send in the weekly report tomorrow I am going to give you a negative efficiency mark. This will go on your record. It is not good, but it is nothing to be ashamed of, a lot of men have had them. The importance of the rating is double—to drive home the importance of regulations to you and to be sure you do not endanger anyone else's life. If you make one more blunder I send for your replacement.'

'Have a heart, Cap'n, it wasn't all that bad! No one was hurt. I promise nothing like it will happen again. I'll try doubly hard if you don't report this.'

'You will try doubly hard because I do report it. If I had any brains I would have sent in the first report when you didn't check the bleed valve on Robson's suit. If I had done that this would be your second mark and you would be out—which is where you belong. I don't think you have it in you to be a good spacer.'

He turned and walked away, as far as he could in the limited confines of the dome. Sonny stared after him, chewing his lip.

'I am hungry,' Arkady said, walking across the dome and looking into the pot that was simmering slowly on the electric stove. 'The stew smells as good as ever. Anyone joining me?'

'A bowl for me, if you will, Arkady," Robson said, trying with slight success to keep a natural tone into his voice.

'Your heroic treatment seems to have worked,' Robson said looking out of the port to see if Sonny and Arkady were returning yet. 'Over two weeks now and your problem child has been good as gold, serious as a clam and atten­tive to his duty.'

'Not as serious as that. He is starting with the jokes again.' Captain Hegg stretched his long fingers, cramped from labouring the keys of the minityper as he wrote up his report. 'He must take things seriously, all the time.'

'I think that you are worrying without cause. You know that it is possible for a man to have a sense of humour and still to be serious about his work. Good lord, you never seem to complain about my jokes, except that you don't think them funny.'

'A very different thing, professor. No matter how you are feeling you always do your work the same way, cor­rectly and methodically.'

'Some people use the term "old-maidish" for that.'

'Perhaps on Earth, where there are very few critical mistakes to be made. Out here it is essential to survival. A man must have it naturally, as you do, or force himself to learn it. Some never learn it and find jobs on earth. I would sleep much better if our mineralogist were there with them.'

'Speak of the devil. They're on their way back now, lug­ging a great ruddy trunk between them. I hope you filled the shower tank.'

'Of course! It's on my roster ' He caught Robson's eye and forced himself to smile in return, though he did not consider this sort of joke to be in very good taste.

The shower thundered and roared on the other side of the bulkhead. Hegg eyed the patch where they had drilled the hole and made a mental note to change it in the morn­ing; the continual pressure changes could not be doing the flexible material any good. He wished, not for the first time, that their weight allowance had allowed for some metal-working tools. The sound of the shower stopped and the inner lock opened; the two men burst into the dome cheering and swinging the heavy ~ase between them.

'So pure they won't have to bother to refine it!' Arkady shouted.

'The mother lode, the bonanza, the richest strike in the known history of man—no, in the history of the galaxy!' Sonny struck a noble pose, one foot on the case, arms flung theatrically wide.

'I gather you have found a new deposit of ore,' Robson observed dryly.

'Did you check with the sniff ir before you bled in the air?'

'Of course, Cap'n, old watchdog!' Sonny was so lost in enthusiasm that he had the temerity to slap the captain on one massive shoulder and never noticed the sudden nar­rowing of his eyes. 'As of this very moment you can chalk up this expedition as a howling success!'

'It will be three months before the ship is here to take us off. Plenty of work yet. . . .'

'Paperwork and tedium, Cap me lad! The purpose of this trip was to see if rich enough deposits of titanium, be­ryllium or sodium could be found in great enough concen­tration to justify the installation of robot mining equip­ment, since it is impossible to biing in enough oxygen for large-scale human operation.'

'We have found it,' Arkady broke in. 'Almost a mountain of ore! Chunks of pure metallic sodium. I can see the installation now—a pithead, a spaceport, the robot min­ers, conveyers, the hum of mighty machines!'

'Whenever you Russians get poetic it is always tractors or mighty machines,' Captain Hegg said, catching the spark of their enthusiasm. 'Now climb out of those suits. And if either of you are capable of it, I would enjoy hav­ing a written report that I can send off as soon as possi­ble.'

For a few hours that night the precariousness of their thin-walled bubble of air on an alien world was forgotten, for this was an event to be celebrated. Their survey was a success, even more successful than had been hoped for. The planet of Cassidy-2 would reluctantly release its pre­cious metals and it would be the members of the expedi­tion who received the credit for this largesse.

Captain Hegg rooted in the bottom of the container of the dehydrated fish that they all loathed, and brought up four steaks that he had hidden there for a deserving occa­sion. Robson, as acting medical officer, contributed a con­tainer of brandy from the hospital stores. The alcohol only added to their elation; they did not really need it. This was a night that would long be remembered. They retired late, calling back and forth from their bunks in the darkness, laughing outrageously at the sudden onslaught of Robson's snores, then one by one falling off to sleep as well.

Captain Hegg awoke possessed by the premonition that something was very wrong. He shook his head, cursing the muffling effects of the brandy, trying to understand why he had woken up. The room was dark, except for the glow of telltale lights from the instrument panel, and even from his upper bunk he could see that they all were glowing green. It couldn't be that. A red warning when the board was on night command set off enough alarms to lift them right out of their beds. What else? He coughed and cleared his throat.

With sudden panic he inhaled deeply and broke into spasmodic coughing. Smoke! There could be no smoke here! Smoking was forbidden, while very few things in the dome were even combustible. . . .

The ore case with the samples!

'Roll out!' Hegg bellowed as he half jumped, half fell from the high bunk and dived for the light switch. As his hand hit it he saw the red hairline gleam between the lid and the body of the sealed case.

'Get up! Get up!'

He pulled Sonny halfway out of his high bunk and at the same instant kicked Arkady in the side. This was all the time he could spare. He was aware of Robson stum­bling up behind him as he dived for the case.

'Robson! Open the door to the lock chamber.'

The ecologist was tugging at the wheel even before he had finished speaking, and Hegrr put his shoulder to the case and pushed just as the side burst open with roaring flame. Clouds of white smoke poured out and intense glare bathed the full wall of the room. Hegg fell backward, coughing and retching painfully. Sonny jumped over him and threw a wad of blankets and bedding over the flame. The resistant material covered the flame and checked the smoke for an instant while he and Arkady pushed the case towards the lock chamber door, low standing open.

Flame burst through the coverings almost instantly but they were at the door. Molten metal was dribbling from the flaming case and, pushing wildly, Arkady slipped and put his knee full into a pool of it. He rolled free, without uttering a sound, and beat the flame from his pyjama legs with his bare hands. At the sane moment Robson and Sonny gave a last concerted he;.ve and the leaking case slid into the lock chamber. They pushed at the door.

'Evacuation . . . pump . . .' Hegg managed to say through his coughing, but Arkady had dragged himself there with one leg and the motor was already whining.

The smoke was thicker before the last burning gobbet of metal had been shovelled up and dropped into the largest of their sample boxes. This was lined with heavier metal; before it burned through they had the lid sealed shut and an atmosphere of inert helium pumped in. The metal held, and in the lock chamber the burning also stopped as the combustible atmosphere was removed. With each passing second the air cleared as the air circulators drew out and filtered away the smoke.

'What happened . . . ?' Arkady asked, still dazed by the suddenness of the emergency. Blood ran down his leg, yet neither he nor any of the others noticed it.

'One of the locks on the sample case wasn't closed all the way,' Robson said thickly. 'I saw it just as I pushed the thing through the door. Right hand lock, open a couple of notches. Enough to let a trickle of air in. . . .'

'Who sealed that case?' Hegg's voice hammered at them, his coughing forgotten, or under control.

'I did,' Arkady said. Then, grimly, 'But Sonny opened it again to put in a last piece of ore.'

As though their heads were controlled by the same si­lent command they turned to face Sonny.

'But I didn't . . . well, maybe, it was an accident . . .' he said, his face slack, still stunned by the suddenness of the emergency.

Robson was closest. 'You—you—' he said, but could not find the words. With his shining bald head and jowled cheeks he should have looked funny as he stood there, shaking with rage, but he did not. Almost of its own voli­tion his open hand sprang out and slapped Sonny across the face. Sonny stumbled backwards, his fingers fumbling towards the livid red mark on his white cheek.

Arkady hopped forward. His hard fist swung with all of his weight, caught Sonny on the side of the neck, knock­ing him to the floor. The three men fell on the writhing body, pummelling and kicking it, mouthing inarticulate sounds.

Captain Hegg ground his heel deep into the prostrate man's side just once before he realized who he was and what he was doing. He reeled away, then turned back to shout to the other two men. They did not hear him and kept on grimly at what they were doing. Pulling at them did no good either so he had to stop Arkady with a para­lysing judo blow and drag the little professor over to his bunk and hold him there until he stopped struggling.

'Let me have the key to the medical supplies,' he said, when he saw that Robson was finally listening.

No one ever discussed the affairs of that night, except for the needed mechanical details of cleaning up the dam­age. Sonny Greer lay for three days in his bunk, bandaged and silent, closing his eyes when anyone came near. Arka­dy's burns were bandaged and he hobbled around the dome doing the minor maintenance work that he was ca­pable of. Captain Hegg broke into fits of exhausting coughing if he did anything strenuous. Prof. Robson, though unmarked physically, seemed to have shrunk and his skin hung loosely. The three men kept very much to themselves, and when they talked did so in low voices.

It would be thirteen weeks before the relief ship arrived.

On the fourth day Sonny Greer climbed out of his bunk. Except for his bruised face and the bandages he seemed fit for duty.

'Is there anything I can do?' he asked.

Arkady and Robson turned away when he spoke. Hegg forced himself to answer.

'Just one thing. Arkady can't get into a suit, so you will have to go out with me once to get some more samples. After that you will be relieved of duty. You will stay in or near your bunk. You will touch none of the controls or equipment. Your meals will be brought to you.'

After that no one talked to Sonny, even when they handed him his food. The tension in the small dome grew worse with every passing day and Hegg wondered how long it would be before something really snapped.

Sonny had stumbled once, on his way from his bunk to the toilet cubby, and accidentally leaned on the air control console. Arkady had hit him once, knocking him halfway across the room. Hegg had been putting off the trip for the samples, but he finally forced himself to schedule it Perhaps getting the man away from the others for a while would help.

'We are going after the ore samples tomorrow,' he an­nounced to the room in general. The silence that followed was deadly.

'Let me check out your suit for you, Captain,' Arkady finally said.

'I'll help him.' Robson climbed to his feet. 'With two checking there are no errors. It's better that way.'

Hegg let them go. It was that way all the time now, the three of them checking and counter-checking each other, almost living in panic with their awareness of the manifold dooms that the planet held in store for them. Captain Hegg did not know how this situation could remain static for three full months. When the two men emerged from the lock chamber, he realized that Sonny was looking at him.

'Can I check my suit. Captain?' he asked. Neither of the men had gone near Greer's suit. It was as though he didn't exist.

'Go ahead,' Hegg said, then followed him through the door and watched his every move. It was a compulsive ac­tion he could not have resisted if he had wanted to.

The morning was worse. Sonny was forced to fumble into his suit by himself since the men ignored him, while at the same time they insisted on going through Captain Hegg's checklist three times before they were satisfied. The inner door had actually been closed before Hegg could force himself to go over to the man, to run through the checklist with him. To touch Sonny's suit seemed repel­lent.

'One,' Sonny said. 'Spare oxy tank full.'

'One,' Hegg repeated, and with an effort of will drove his fingers to tap the hated metal. They went slowly down the list.

"Thirteen, bleed valve.'

'Thirteen, closed.' And Heggs' fingers went out and felt the closed valve . . . then spun it open a half turn.

'Wait! There, it's all right.'

He sealed the valve again with palsied hands.

What had possessed him, he thought as they left the lock and trudged slowly towards the distant hills? Why had he done that? He had not willed it. He would not kill Sonny, though he knew the man would be better off dead, before he did something that killed them all.

It was that simple. Sonny Greer was a menace. No longer a friend, he was in league with the planet, joined in battle against them. That was why the other two men shunned him like a Jonah. He was a Jonah. Worse than a Jonah. He was linked with the omnipresent powers that ought to destroy them, and they must both feel, as he did, that Greer would be better off dead.

At that moment Sonny Greer let go of his end of the sample case, stumbled and fell.

Hegg looked on, stunned, as he writhed on the ground, :! awing silently at his helmet. Sonny's suit speaker was cut off and only muffled sounds came through the thick ar­mour. Hegg bent over him, uncomprehending, as the man's body arched like a bow and collapsed. Hegg rolled him over and looked through the faceplate at the dead, tortured face.

His instant sympathy was overwhelmed by a feeling of immense relief.

Sonny seemed to have been killed by poisoning from the atmosphere. But how could it have entered his suit? There could be no leaks in the armour. Hegg would swear to that; he had checked it thoroughly himself. Then he re­membered his traitor fingers at the bleed valve and he quickly tried it. No, it was sealed.

Or was it? The handle was right to the top and vertical —but wasn't there too much thread showing? Hegg turned the limp body until the sun shone directly into the mouth of the valve.

It was jammed half open by a particle of metal. The air in the suit would be forced out by the greater internal pres­sure, and when the pressure dropped the outside atmos­phere would leak in. Had leaked in; because Sonny Greer was completely and finally dead.

Again the wave of relaxation swept over the captain, and it carried with it a tiny, nagging question.

How had the metal gotten into the valve? By accident? A lucky accident that made it lodge in exactly such a way that the valve handle would look shut and feel shut—even though it was open?

'Cause of death, accidental,' Captain Hegg said, louder than he had intended, as he climbed to his feet and cleaned the alien dust from his hands, then rubbed them on his legs to cleanse them again.

'It had to be an accident. I can't very well list you as suicide,' he said to the unmoving body. 'It really should be self-defence, or justified homicide or something. But I can't say that, can I, Sonny?'

Now that death had removed the threat, he could feel for the first time the compassion that had been buried by his urge for survival.

'I'm sorry, Sonny,' he whispered gently, and touched the lifeless shoulder. 'You just shouldn't have been out here. I wish for all our sakes we had found that out earlier.

'Mostly for your sake though,' he said, rising. Then in a firmer voice. 'I better get back to the dome, straighten this mess out. . . .'

Beginning the long process of forgetting.