Barney Carroll and James Baler cut through the thin air of Mars in a driver-wing flier at a terrific rate of speed. It was the only kind of flier that would work on Mars with any degree of safety since it depended upon the support of its drivers rather than the wing surface. They were hitting it up at almost a thousand miles per hour on their way from Canalopsis to Lincoln Head; their trip would take an hour and a half. As they passed over the red sand of Mars, endlessly it seemed, a glint of metal caught Barney's eye, and he shouted. "What's the matter, Barney?" asked Jim. "Roll her over and run back a mile or so," said Barney. "I saw something down there that didn't belong in this desert." Jim snapped the plane around in a sharp loop that nearly took their heads off, and they ran back along their course. "Yop," called Barney, "there she is!" "What?" "See that glint of shiny metal? That doesn't belong in this mess of erosion. Might be a crash." "Hold tight," laughed Jim. "We're going down." They did. Jim's piloting had all of the aspects of a daredevil racing pilot's, and Barney was used to it. Jim snapped the nose of the little flier down and they power-dived to within a few yards of the sand before he set the plane on its tail and skidded flatwise to kill speed. He leveled off, and the flier came screaming in for a perfect landing not many feet from the glinting object. "This is no crash," said Baler. "This looks like the remains of an air-lane beacon of some sort." "Does it? Not like any I've ever seen. It reminds me more of some of the gadgets they find here and there--the remnants of the Ancients. They used to build junk like this." "Hook up the sand-blower," suggested Jim Baler. "We'll clear some of this rubble away and see what she really looks like. Can't see much more than what looks like a high-powered searchlight." Barney hauled equipment out of the flier and hitched it to a small motor in the plane. The blower created a small storm for an hour or so, its blast directed by suit-clad Barney Carroll. Working with experience gained in uncovering the remains of a dozen dead and buried cities, Barney cleared the shifting sand from the remains of the tower. The head was there, preserved by the dry sand. Thirty feet below the platform, the slender tower was broken off. No delving could find the lower portion. "This is quite a find," said Jim. "Looks like some of the carvings on the Temple of Science at Canalopsis--that little house on the top of the spire with the three-foot runway around it; then this dingbat perched on top of the roof. Never did figure out what it was for."