He measured and computed. "Art was almost right, at that," he remarked finally. "'Near S Doradus' would almost be enough. I get an apparent magnitude of minus fourteen, which means a distance of just under one parsec." He took a fresh sheet of paper from the pad and wrote rapidly. "There," he said, handing it to Little, "is the complete specification of our position, to two decimal places--I can't guess closer. It also includes the type of this planet and sun in standard terms, and a rough idea of our latitude on the planet. If you broadcast that and anyone hears you, they'll find us." "And he can go right ahead and broadcast it, as soon as the rubbernecks are out of the way," broke in a new voice. "The gadget's done. I haven't tested it, naturally, but it can't help working. Say the word, doc." * * * * * Little shook his head. "Not tonight. We must arrange some way to keep the broadcast from being too obvious. Come on to bed and we'll talk as we go. It would be too bad to slip up now." They arose and walked slowly toward the lighted doorway. "It seems to me that we only need to gas the guards in the immediate neighborhood, and lock ourselves into the quarters with them outside. There are no outside catches on the main doors, and I could seal the elevator panel with the welder--I didn't use it for the broadcaster, and it should stand the overload long enough." They passed into the corridor. "That might work," mused the doctor. "There is only the one elevator, and no other entrances to the roof, from below, anyway. But we'd want as many hours as we could get, and I should think they could burn out the elevator door in a few minutes." They entered the room in which they slept. "That could be prevented by simply leaving that door open when the elevator was up and going into action at that time," contributed Leo as they pulled off their boots. "Then they couldn't get at either the elevator or its door." "How about the other men?" asked Little. "It will be difficult to tell them all about the geletane, and how to avoid its effects. What will--" "Stop worrying about it," interrupted Arthur. He had lain down with the pack for a pillow, moved it to a more comfortable spot, noticed the ease with which it moved and, with a horrible suspicion in his mind, looked into the kit box inside. "The communicator is gone." Possibly the guards in the corridor and on the roof were laughing, if their unhuman cerebral processes had ever evolved an emotion akin to humor. Certainly, they were pleased with themselves. "You loon," growled Leo. "Why did you have to celebrate finishing the thing by tearing outside to tell us? It would have been simpler just to step outside our door and hand it to a guard."