"Very good. Take at least one good man with you. Professor Reuter says the depth here is about sixty feet, which is the equivalent of thirty feet on Earth, due to the difference in gravity. That is, the pressure ought not to bother anyone in a space suit provided the depth is constant. I'm sending you because you made good on that mica stunt. Now here's your chance to do something bigger. You'll have complete charge of whatever party you take." "Mr. Longworth will enjoy that very much," remarked Paulette. "He likes to take complete charge of things." "I've noticed that," said McCausland, drawing down the corner of his mouth. He reached into a drawer, and producing one of the ugly, ungainly rocket-pistols, shoved it across the desk. "This thing fires the new atomic shells. Pretty dangerous, as you probably know, but it's about the only thing that will work in these liquid densities, and you can't tell what you'll run into out there. Good luck!" Adam saluted, and was just turning away when out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Paulette's face. It had gone suddenly rather white, and her lips were slightly parted. He turned back to speak, but the moment had passed, and contenting himself with an awkward repetition of the salute he made his way out of the cabin. * * * * * Jake Burchall, responding to a call over the loud speaker system, found him changing into the electrically warmed clothes used in the depths of outer space. "Want to come with me, Jake? An hour or so scouting along the ocean floor. We'll be the first men to land on Pluto." To his surprise, the wizened little man, instead of bursting into his habitual giggle, looked thoughtful. "What's the matter, Jake?" "Nothin', Mr. Adam. I was just wonderin', that's all, if maybe you volunteered for this, but I don't s'pose you'd care to tell." "I don't mind telling you. Captain McCausland assigned me." Burchall scratched his head, evidently seeking to choose his words. "You think a mighty lot of him, don't you, Mr. Adam?" Adam stopped dressing with a zipper half closed, his mouth open. "Why sure! Ever since I was a kid--I remember being brought up on the story of how Steel-Wall McCausland saved the Venus mail rocket, the time--" "Yes, I know, Mr. Adam. But looky here, I'm goin' to tell you for your own good, there some folks think Old Steel-Wall is a little bit too smooth outside and too hard inside, and I ain't satisfied. There's some mighty funny things goin' on. I don't like the way he called us in from that port detail--and that there navigation around the planetoids--and this here exploring trip--I'm just maybe a old fool, but I got my ideas."