"Gosh, no," said Meek. "That's what he wants. He soaks it up. Didn't you notice how the beam went right into him, without spattering or anything. And the way he sucked that power cable. He drained your ship of every drop of energy it had." "He did what?" yelped Stiffy. "He drained the ship of energy. That's what he lives on. That's why he chased you. He wanted you to keep on shooting." Stiffy clapped a hand to his forehead. "We're sunk for certain, now," he declared. "There might have been a chance to get back with just a few plates ripped off the ship. But with all the energy gone...." "Hey, Stiffy," yelled Meek, "take a look at this." Stiffy moved nearer, cautiously. "What you got now?" he demanded irritably. "These marks on his shoulder," said Meek. His gloved finger shook excitedly as he pointed. "They're the same kind of marks as were on those stones I read about in the book. Marks no one could read. Fellow who wrote the book figured they were made by some other race that had visited Juno. Maybe a race from outside the Solar System, even." "Good gravy," said Stiffy, in awe, "you don't think...." "Sure, I do," Meek declared with the air of a man who is sure of his knowledge. "A race came here one time and they had the Prowler along. For some reason they left him. Maybe he was just a robot and they didn't have room for him, or maybe something happened to them...." "Say," said Stiffy, "I bet you that's just what he is. A robot. Attuned to thought waves. That's why he minds you." "That's what I figured," Meek agreed. "Thought waves would be the same, no matter who thought them ... human being or a ... well ... or something else." A sudden thought struck Stiffy. "Maybe them guys found the Lost Mine! By cracky, that would be something, wouldn't it? Maybe this critter could lead us to it." "Maybe?" Meek said doubtfully. Meek patted the Prowler's rocky shoulder gently, filled with wonder. In some unguessed time, in some unknown sector of space, the Prowler had been fashioned by an alien people. For some reason they had made him, for some reason they had left him here. Abandonment or purpose? Meek shook his head. That would be something to puzzle over later, something to roll around in his brain on some monotonous flight into the maw of space. Space! Startled at the thought clanging on his brain he jerked a quick glance upward, saw the bleak stars staring at him. Eyes that seemed to be laughing at him, cruel, ironic laughter. "Stiffy," he whispered. "Stiffy, I just thought of something." "Yeah, what is it?" Stark terror walked in Meek's words. "My oxygen tank is better than half gone. And the ship is wrecked...." "Cripes," said Stiffy, "I guess we just forgot. We sure are behind the eight ball. Somehow we got to get back to Asteroid City. And we got to get there quick." Meek's eyes brightened. "Stiffy, maybe.... Maybe we could ride the Prowler."