The mire under the water had softened, like quicksand. It tugged at his feet and legs, pulling him slowly down into the green ooze. He splashed with powerful strokes. He sank deeper. "Fish!" cried Spike. The lithe Venusian idly tread water beside them, showed little interest. "Get us out of here!" The water slowly climbed up Rusty's fear-tingling body. He could feel the liquid creeping up, as he was pulled down, into the slime. He strained with all the power of his legs. Seized them with his hands and pulled. He sank deeper, slowly. He could feel the bottomless suction. Like a nightmare in which one falls slowly. It was no nightmare. It was stark reality. Thick water, green ooze. He splashed wildly. Fish stared from one to the other, curiously. "Get you out?" he asked. This was madness. It could not happen to him. He was Rusty Carter, an ordinary Tele-newsman. He could not die here. The water was beneath his chin. Rusty remembered no aid could be expected from the Venusian. His nature, utterly individualistic, could barely conceive of anyone needing, much less asking for help. Damn Venusians. "Damn you, I'll twist your scaly neck!" cried Spike. "Help us out of here!" Rusty sank lower. Neck muscles strained to hold his head above the surface. He remembered once on Mars seeing six Venusians killed separately by a lizard, when together they could have easily torn it to pieces. He choked as water entered his mouth, swallowed. Must keep mouth closed. It had a sour taste. Spike's tone changed. "Pull us out and I will give you much whirl-water when we reach Earth!" Whisky was the one temptation of the bright star's people, something they coveted, could not understand. Rusty's eyes were filming, the water upon his face, straining back and upward. Interplanetary Control had long forbidden the sale of liquor to Venusians. The water was at his nose, burning, bubbling. He gasped. It entered his nose, his throat, tickled in his chest. He wanted to cough. The water covered his mouth. This was all. This was drowning. Wild fear, insane rage surged through him. His head went under. He tugged mightily at the water above him, felt hands in air. His lungs screamed for air, his chest bursting. He opened his mouth, and took a deep, gasping breath.... Coughing, he was carried a safe distance, dropped unceremoniously into the water again. His eyes were blurred and he was sick. He wanted to kill that Venusian. They were all that way. Sputtering, Rusty rubbed his eyes, saw Spike and Lothar watching from shallow water. The Venusian swam ahead. They turned and waded on. * * * * * It was night when they reached the Plain. Then it was pitch black, like fingers against his eyes. They had passed the balanced zone. Here there was a kilo-rev of darkness, they said. Rusty was told to get in line--the Uranian, cat-like, would lead the way.