Paula shook her head. "No. Since it started on Earth ten years ago, it's wiped out one-twentieth of the population, and unless it's stopped, it'll destroy all life on our world. But that's old stuff. Except the government's sending out their best men to Ganymede, because it's known the Silver Plague existed here once and was conquered. The inscriptions in Chahnn show that. But they don't say what the treatment was, or give any hints. However--" She brushed red-gold hair from her forehead. "Carver and I have planted men in the _Hunter_ crew. Tough, good men who'll strike out with us into the Black Forest. With equipment." "Desertion, eh?" "Technically, sure. But the only way. Nobody will listen to us. We know--we _know_--the Ancients hid their most valuable treasure in the Black Forest. What it is we don't know. We're hoping it'll solve a lot of problems--the mystery of what powered their machines, what happened to the Ancients--all that." "No planes can be used," Garth said. "There's no place to land in the Forest." "That's why we want you. You know the Forest, and you know the Ancient Tongue. Guide the _Hunter_ crew to Chahnn. Then, when we give the word--head for the Black Forest with us." Garth said, "On one condition. You can't go." Paula's eyes narrowed. "You're in no position to--" "Men might get through. A woman couldn't. Take it or leave it," Garth repeated stubbornly. Captain Brown nodded to the girl. "All right, it's a deal. Sorry, Paula, but he's on the beam. Here's ten bucks, Garth. Balance when we get to Chahnn. We leave tomorrow at Jupiter-rise." * * * * * Garth didn't answer. After a moment Paula and Brown rose and went out through the mildewed tapestry curtain. Garth didn't blame them. The _Moonflower-Ritz_ smelled. Presently he found Tolomo and gave him the money. The Ganymedean hissed worriedly. "Only ten?" "You'll get the rest later. Gimme a bottle." "I don't think--" Garth reached across the bar and seized a quart. "Hereafter I do my drinking out-of-doors," he remarked. "I'll feel cleaner." "_Sfant!_" Tolomo flung after him as he headed for the door. Garth's cheeks burned red at the word, which is Ganymedean and untranslatable; but he didn't turn. He stepped out into the muddy street, a cold wind, sulphurous and strong, stinging his nostrils. He looked around at the collection of plastic native huts. Till the _Hunter_ had arrived, he'd been the only Earthman in Oretown. Now-- He didn't feel like talking to natives. The Tor towered against the purple sky, where three of Jupiter's moons were glowing lanterns. At the base of the Tor was Garth's shack. Swaying a little, clutching the bottle, he headed in that direction. He had waited five years for this moment. Now, when at last he might find the answer to the problem that had turned him into a derelict, he was afraid.