"Another one," exclaimed the second man in faint surprise. "I thought we'd bagged the lot." The other grunted. "We'd better take him to Y." Gavin was searched and then hustled up the ladder into the officer's mess. As he was propelled through the door, conversation died in the messroom, and four pairs of eyes turned on him curiously. Gavin controlled his surprise. Villanowski was there, ironed to his chair, his homely features taut with strain. At the table to the left of Villanowski sat the emaciated factor. He wasn't ironed. Neither was Nadia Petrovna. She had changed into crisp shorts and was leaning forward, lips parted in surprise. But it was the fourth man who drew the T.I.S. agent's attention. He sat between Nadia Petrovna and the factor, lolling back in his chair indolently, a sheaf of papers spread on the table before him. His face was like a death mask in which the coloring, the lines had been painted by a machine. It was perfect, but without life. Then Gavin realized that it was a mask. The man's whole face was a lie, even to the realistic mole on his chin. He leaned across the table. "Who's this?" he asked in a strong harsh voice. "He says his name's Murdock. Claims he was third assistant-engineer. We found him down in the engine room. He's killed Peters and dumped all the fuel." Nadia drew in her breath sharply, looked frightened. The factor's fleshless features blackened with rage. Even Villanowski glanced up, a look of surprise and dawning hope in his eyes. Only the man in the mask didn't change expression. "Go back to your post," he ordered Gavin's captors. "We'll take care of Mr. Murdock." Then, when they had left, he said, "You were contacted by my—ah—co-worker on Venus, Murdock. Mr. X, he called himself." He chuckled, the noise issuing from between unsmiling painted lips like the voice of an automaton. "For the sake of convenience, you can term me Mr. Y." Gavin didn't say anything. "You have presented us with a problem," Mr. Y went on. "Where's Cabot?" Gavin interrupted. "Dead." "The chief astrogator, the crew?" "All dead. In fact, we thought we'd wiped the slate clean." The factor suddenly slammed the table with his bony fist. "What are you playing with him for, Y? I've sacrificed everything. The cantonment, the slaves. I demand that he be done away with before he can contrive any more damage." Y regarded the factor with venomous amber eyes, the only living features in his death mask. "Has it occurred to you to wonder why Mr. Murdock dumped the Nova's fuel?" The factor started. "Mr. Murdock," said Y, turning back to Gavin, "what persuaded you to ground the Nova?" Gavin's lips thinned. He didn't say anything. Y continued to regard him a moment. Then he asked Nadia, "I believe you suspected Murdock of being an agent of United Spaceways, Miss Petrovna?" Before the girl could answer the factor broke in again. "Why can't we use the Nova's special space drive?"