She sent out a thought tuned to Worsel, and was surprised when it went unanswered. She investigated, finding that the Velantian's screens were full up and held hard--he was fighting Overlords so savagely that he had not felt her thought. Should she take a hand in this brawl? She should not, she decided, and grinned fleetingly. Her erstwhile tutor would need no help in that comparatively minor chore. She would wait, rest up a bit, and eat, before she called him. "Worsel! Con calling. What goes on there, fellow old snake?" She finally launched her thought. "You've stuck that sharp tail of yours into some of my business--I hope." "I hope so," Worsel sent back. "Been quite a while since I saw you close up--how about coming aboard?" "Coming at max," and she did. Before entering the _Velan_, however, she put on a personal gravity damper, set at nine hundred eighty centimeters. Strong, tough, and supple as she was she did not relish the thought of the atrocious accelerations used and enjoyed by Velantians everywhere. "What did you make of that burst of thought?" she asked by way of greeting. "Or were you having so much fun that you missed it?" "What burst?" Then, after Constance had explained, "I was busy--but _not_ having fun." "Somebody who didn't know you might believe that," the girl derided. "This thought was important, I think--much more so than dilly-dallying with Overlords, as you were doing. It was 'way up--on this band here." She illustrated. "So?" Worsel came as near to whistling as one of his inarticulate race could come. "What were they like? Tell me all that you can." "VWZY, to four places." Con concentrated. "Multilegged--not exactly carapaceous, but pretty nearly. Spiny, too, I believe. The world was cold, dismal, barren; but not frigid, but he ... it ... didn't seem exactly like an oxygen-breather--more like what a warm-blooded Palainian would perhaps look like, if you can imagine such a thing. Mentality very high--precisionist grade--no thought of cities as such. The sun was a typical yellow dwarf. Does any of this ring a bell in your mind?" "No." Worsel thought intensely for minutes. So did Constance. Neither had any idea then that the girl was describing the form assumed in their autumn by the dread inhabitants of the planet Ploor! "This may indeed be important," Worsel broke the mental silence. "Shall we explore together?" "We shall." They tuned to the desired band. "Give it plenty of shove, too. Go!" * * * * * Out and out and out the twinned receptors sped; to encounter finally a tenuous, weak, and utterly cryptic vibration. One touch--the merest possible contact--and it disappeared. It vanished before even Con's electronics-fast reactions could get more than a hint of directional alignment; and neither of the observers could read any part of it.