"I got it, too, just as they all came for me. And I fired three shots into them before I saw that it wasn't even annoying them. Damn it, the only way you can stop a body animated by one of those rings is to make it fix it so it can't move, like cutting off the legs or something. A bullet in the heart doesn't worry it. "But I'd backed to the door and got out of it--out into the Ganymedean night, without even a coat on. It was colder than hell, too. And after I got out there, there just wasn't any place to go. Except back in the ship, and I wasn't going there. "They didn't come out after me--didn't bother to. They knew that within three hours--four at the outside--I'd be unconscious from insufficient oxygen. If the cold, or something else, didn't get me first. "Maybe there was some way out, but I didn't see one. I just sat down on a stone about a hundred yards from the ship and tried to think of something I could do. But--" * * * * * I didn't go anywhere with the "but--" and there was a moment's silence, and then Charlie said, "Well?" And Blake said, "What did you do?" "Nothing," I said. "I couldn't think of a thing to do. I just sat there." "Till morning?" "No. I lost consciousness before morning. I came to while it was still dark, in the ship." Blake was looking at me with a puzzled frown. He said, "The hell. You mean--" And then Charlie let out a sudden yip and dived head-first out of the bunk he'd been lying on, and grabbed the gun out of my hand. I'd just finished cleaning it and slipped the cartridge-clip back in. And then, with it in his hand, he stood there staring at me as though he'd never seen me before. Blake said, "Sit down, Charlie. Don't you know when you're being ribbed? But--uh--better keep the gun, just the same." Charlie kept the gun all right, and turned it around to point at me. He said, "I'm making a damn fool out of myself all right, but--Hank, _roll up your sleeves_." I grinned and stood up. I said, "Don't forget my ankles, too." But there was something dead serious in his face, and I didn't push him too far. Blake said, "He could even have it on him somewhere else, with adhesive tape. I mean on the million-to-one chance that he wasn't kidding...." Charlie nodded without turning to look at Blake. He said, "Hank, I hate to ask it, but--" I sighed, and then chuckled. I said, "Well, I was just going to take a shower anyway." It was hot in the ship, and I was wearing only shoes and a pair of coveralls. Paying no attention to Blake and Charlie, I slipped them off and stepped through the oilsilk curtains of the little shower cubicle. And turned on the water. Over the sound of the shower, I could hear Blake laughing and Charlie cursing softly to himself. And when I came out of the shower, drying myself, even Charlie was grinning. Blake said, "And I thought that yarn Charlie just told was a dilly. This trip is backwards; we'll end up having to tell each other the truth."