"Sorry, Swede," he chuckled. "It's for your own good. You're insane, so I can't take chances." "Me?" I bellowed, for a moment forgetting even my blistered nose. I called him several names. Mike laughed--like crazy. "Now to get Bill back here. We'll even leave the port open for him." I thought that was good, until he removed a tank of sleep gas from its brackets and dragged it to the entry. "You can't reach Bill on the Hustic," I reminded him. "Use the radio." "And let him know who's making like a caterpillar in a cocoon?" Once more I thought of the supernormal cleverness of lunacy. He made some painstaking adjustments on the Hustic and flicked the changeover switch to _send_. Through the open port I could see three of the Marties watching the _Banshee_. If they'd been humans I'd have yelled for help, but with Marties I'd have been wasting my breath. Mike kept stepping up the power. His lips were tight and his eyes squinted in concentration. And then I saw one of the Marties move. Actually make an aimless movement. He shifted from one foot to the other. The second turned his hand from side to side as though uneasy. The third took a few steps back and forth. And Martians just didn't act like that. "Secondary effects," Mike grunted. "I'm not tuned on them, but the wave spills over." "Huh?" Mike didn't answer. He just sat there _thinking_ into the Hustic. * * * * * An hour passed that way. Then I heard a sound like a whole forest full of infuriated parrots. It came from the direction of T'lith, and it grew louder by the minute. Mike looked up. "Bill should be here soon." He was right. I heard the sandcycle, and then the squeal of its brakes below the entry port. "Olsen!" Bill was yelling as he scrambled in. "Hell is loose out there! The Marties--" [Illustration: _I was at the mercy of a lunatic--and the Marties waiting outside!_] "Look out!" I yelled, but too late. Bill was panting and didn't have a chance to hold his breath as Mike slapped the sleep mask over his face. Mike caught him as he fell and loaded him into the other cushions. There must have been at least a hundred green-skinned Marties milling about outside. They'd followed Bill from T'lith and they were really milling in a most un-Martian fashion. "What have you done, Mike?" I cried, then I understood what the word "aghast" really means. That's what I was. Aghast. Mike slammed and dogged the port, but even through the insulated hull I could hear the uproar outside. Bill opened his eyes, gave me one look of utter disgust, and started struggling. "Mike!" he roared. "Get us the hell out of here! Turn me loose! All the Martians have gone crazy! They chased me, damn it!" Mike just grinned, but tensely. "You let me out of here at once!" Bill bellowed. "Damn it all, this is mutiny!" "Oh no," Mike protested. "I'm not responsible. I'm crazy. You put it in the log that way yourself."