It was a good question. The steel hull of the Number Four had crumpled and torn like cardboard around the hole where the impact of the ship had melted and volatalized the metal. But the hull of the alien spaceship wasn't even dented. "What now?" asked the major. "Take the RJ-37 in carefully, and lock on with magnetic grapples," MacIlheny ordered. Blake glanced at him. "What if the pilot or crew of that ship is still alive?" "They probably are," MacIlheny said. "But we've got an H-bomb in our ship; if they try anything funny...." "What makes you think they're alive?" the major asked as he eased the ship in. "Somebody set off the atom jets when Number Four approached perigee," MacIlheny reminded him. The RJ-37 approached Number Four closely, then the magnetic grapples were turned on, and the ship stuck to the hull of the battered space station with a metallic clank. The RJ-37 was only a few yards from the edge of the gaping hole that had been torn in the hull of the satellite. In front of them loomed the queer blue shaft of the alien ship. "Okay, hold it," said MacIlheny. "Let's see what happens next. Surely they felt the jar when the ship landed." Forcing himself to be calm, MacIlheny struck a match and fired the tobacco in the bowl of his pipe. * * * * * They didn't have to wait long. From the edge of the hole, there suddenly appeared a moving shape. It was a manlike figure clad in a brilliant crimson spacesuit. The helmet was a dark purple, and it was difficult to see the head within. "Looks like a man," said Blake. "Not quite," MacIlheny said. "Look at the joints in the arms and legs. He's got two knees and two elbows." "What's that he's holding cradled in his arms?" Blake wondered. The major grunted. "Weapon of some sort. Look how he's pointing it straight at us." For a full minute, the figure stood there, for all the world as though he were on the surface of a planet instead of on the outer hull of a space station. Then, slowly, it lowered the thing in its hands. When nothing happened, the figure put the weapon down on the steel hull at its feet and held its oddly double-jointed arms out from its body. "Wild Bill Hickok," breathed Blake softly. "Huh?" said the major. "Hickok used to say: 'I'm a peaceable man.' I guess that's what this guy's trying to say." "Looks like it," agreed MacIlheny. "I wish there were some way of signaling him." "We've got the spotlights," suggested the major. MacIlheny shook his head. "Leave 'em alone. We couldn't make any sense with them, and our friend out there might think they were weapons of some kind. I don't know what that thing he laid down will do, but I don't want to find out just yet."