"But let me warn you," went on the factor. "Don't wander off. The gravity aboard the ship here is bad enough. The atmosphere is much worse. It's easy to get lost, I've known newcomers to die of exhaustion only a few steps from the cantonment." Gavin thanked him again, started to withdraw when the factor halted him. "I've bearers waiting outside," he explained. "They're at your service while you're here. I really advise you not to walk any more than necessary." This time Gavin made good his escape. He had been politely instructed not to pry, he realized. Villanowski might be confident of him, but not the Captain. Gavin was smiling when he met Nadia at the main port, but his eyes were hard. Both of them had donned outer insulating garments of thermal cloth. "We're going to be carried in litters like ancient Oriental potentates," he informed her. Nadia laughed. "You've never been to Jupiter before?" He shook his head. They passed through the lock into the swirling yellow air. It was like swimming. They crept down the gangplank. The bearers were standing patiently at the surface. Gavin had seen Jovian dawn men before, but they never failed to excite his curiosity. Huge, almost seven feet tall, and muscled like gladiators, they were imposing as Greek gods. Their skin was the vivid blue of polished turquoise, their long manes as yellow as a sunburst. "There's a double litter," Nadia pointed out. "Let's take that." Gavin followed her inside. The litter was cushioned like a divan. One was borne along in a semi reclining position. Nadia clapped her hands and cried, "Cantonment!" Four naked blue giants swung the litter to their shoulders and started off at a rapid trot. In a few paces, the ship had disappeared. They were like a tiny raft, alone in a welter of yellow oppressive fog. Gavin, peering over the edge, saw that the giants were following a paved road. After a moment they began to pass an endless procession of dawn men, chained ankle to ankle and moving sluggishly toward the Nova. Already the loading had started. Gavin stared at the half-men curiously. They crept along, features drawn, their yellow manes matted with dirt. There was a haunted look in their eyes like caged animals. Thirty percent would die in the crossing, he knew. Within a year ninety percent of the rest would be dead, victims of home-sickness, of pneumonia and measles and Venusian lung rot, not to mention a score of other diseases. The terrible rate of fatality was good business for the slavers. It held up the demand. "They aren't really human," said Nadia in a faint voice as if reading his thoughts. "They're sub-men." Gavin nodded. Some place along the evolutionary scale the Jovians had taken a wrong turning. They would never evolve into true homo sapiens. But even cattle weren't treated as they were.