There was no restraint in his kiss this time and for a few moments the ship and the landfall vanished from their minds. They did not know where they were; nor did they care. Then Mike jerked himself back to the business at hand and rushed to the pilot cabin; the dangerous business ahead of them. * * * * * They were already in range, being gripped and dragged down by the planet's pull. Mike ordered Nicko and Doree into straps and buckled himself into the pilot's chair. He surveyed the fast-greatening planet. There would be no choice of landing fields. Mike could only hope to bring the _Space Queen_ down on dry land rather than in the center of an ocean. She was responding to her fins now and Mike put her into a long glide. Below, the land and the water separated themselves and Mike studied the gray expanse below. Ocean. Mike leveled out and struggled for altitude. There was minor response as the atmosphere outside clawed at the hull, dragging it down, heating it a dull red. All during the trip he had fought inertia. Now his problem was reversed, rapid acceleration being the demon of the moment. A helpless shell rocketing toward a solid obstacle. Mike felt a surge of relief as the streaming gray below turned to racing green. At least they would not finish up trapped in a submarine. But the land could be as lethal as the sea and now the moment was at hand. Mike angled the fins to their maximum. He yelled. "Contact!" Then he prayed. There was a great crash--and oblivion. * * * * * Pain brought back Mike's consciousness. Without opening his eyes, he analyzed the pain. It was in his shoulder. He tried the muscles gingerly and decided it wasn't broken. If that was the case the others could have come through also. The results of crashes of this kind were usually extreme one way or another. Either the passengers came through unhurt or they were mangled into stew meat. Mike opened his eyes. All was quiet. Both Nicko and Doree lay motionless under their straps; still unconscious but with no visible injuries. But there was something else there in the center of the cabin floor; something Mike's dazed mind had difficulty in accepting. A snake. It was coiled lazily, its green and gold body the thickness of a man's arm. It had a flat, triangular head with deadliness written all over it and its eyes were upon the only moving thing in the room--Doree's rising and falling breast. The chill that went through Mike almost paralyzed him. In hypnotized fascination he watched the sinuous uncoiling of the serpent; the gliding movement in Doree's direction. Then the girl's eyes opened. "Don't move!" Mike snapped. "Everything is all right. We got down. But you must stop breathing--hold your breath. Don't even move your eyes! Stare straight at the ceiling."