In the _Perseus_, four scientists and three Navy officers were arguing heatedly; employing deep-space verbiage not to be found in any dictionary. "Jarve!" Karns called out, and Hilton joined the group. "Does anything about this planet make any sense to you?" "No. But you're the planetographer. 'Smatter with it?" "It's a good three hundred degrees Kelvin too hot." "Well, you know it's loaded with uranexite." "That much? The whole crust practically jewelry ore?" "If that's what the figures say, I'll buy it." "Buy _this_, then. Continuous daylight everywhere. Noon June Sol-quality light _except_ that it's all in the visible. Frank says it's from bombardment of a layer of something, and Frank admits that the whole thing's impossible." "When Frank makes up his mind what 'something' is, I'll take it as a datum." "Third thing: there's only one city on this continent, and it's protected by a screen that nobody ever heard of." Hilton pondered, then turned to the captain. "Will you please run a search-pattern, sir? Fine-toothing only the hot spots?" The planet was approximately the same size as Terra; its atmosphere, except for its intense radiation, was similar to Terra's. There were two continents; one immense girdling ocean. The temperature of the land surface was everywhere about 100 deg.F, that of the water about 90 deg.F. Each continent had one city, and both were small. One was inhabited by what looked like human beings; the other by usuform robots. The human city was the only cool spot on the entire planet; under its protective dome the temperature was 71 deg.F. Hilton decided to study the robots first; and asked the captain to take the ship down to observation range. Sawtelle objected; and continued to object until Hilton started to order his arrest. Then he said, "I'll do it, under protest, but I want it on record that I am doing it against my best judgment." "It's on record," Hilton said, coldly. "Everything said and done is being, and will continue to be, recorded." The _Perseus_ floated downward. "_There's_ what I want most to see," Hilton said, finally. "That big strip-mining operation ... that's it ... hold it!" Then, via throat-mike, "Attention, all scientists! You all know what to do. Start doing it." Sandra's blonde head was very close to Hilton's brown one as they both stared into Hilton's plate. "Why, they look like giant armadillos!" she exclaimed. "More like tanks," he disagreed, "except that they've got legs, wheels _and_ treads--and arms, cutters, diggers, probes and conveyors--and _look_ at the way those buckets dip solid rock!"