He couldn't, he sobbed to himself. He couldn't go through that inviting lock to the big tanks that held the precious gas. How long? Five minutes, anyhow, maybe more, maybe a little less. But more than enough time for Sam Hervey to reach safety, to lock the air locks, to start his message winging into the sky on its way to the waiting ears at Mars Terminal.... The weird mad light was crazy with moving space-suited figures, laughing at him, mocking him, and they all wore the ugly space-burned face of Sam Hervey. He lurched to his feet and shook his fist at them. He picked up the projector and worked the switch until the rocks were splashed with the flame of bursting rockets. He laughed and cursed and gibbered at the figures, and then understood that there had not been any figures, that Sam Hervey was still beneath the same rock, where he had been for hours, watching him. He had to control himself, he thought shakily. Every time he lost control, he wasted oxygen, precious beautiful oxygen; his laboring lungs screamed for it. He knew that Hervey was remaining calm, was conserving oxygen. And he knew that the smaller, lighter man would probably not consume as much oxygen as he did, even at rest; there would be little difference, but in the long haul.... That again! Sam Hervey's long haul, that he was always talking about! "I've got to be calm," he said aloud. "Be calm! Never was calm before. Got to be now!" Shut up, he told himself. Don't waste breath. He started to weep again, and the dimness was shot with colored lights. In his mouth his tongue was swelling, it was thick and pushing against his teeth. A sip of water from his canteen tube did not help, the tongue remained swollen. He was falling, and he heard the sound of his own retching gasps. Clumsily he fumbled at the intake valve, felt the cool breath of the oxygen, felt the new life trickling through the tube, the pressure almost gone. He sucked at it, swallowing, moaning, great tearing sobs ripping from his chest. The colored lights faded and went away, and he saw Sam Hervey moving slowly toward the ship. Another few seconds...! Screaming, he leaped at Hervey, his arms flailing wildly, his fingers curled into claws, hating, wanting to rend and kill. He fell heavily, sprawling on his chest, staggered to his feet and ran on. Hervey watched him, then drifted away. Hervey was staggering, too, having difficulty in controlling the long gravityless leaps, but he did not fall. He went away and sat down and watched Joe Berne with great interest, and through the earphones Berne heard the faint mocking chuckle of his enemy. [Illustration: _Joe Berne went mad then._]