"And you," he said to the woman sitting beside the lieutenant, "are Dr. Anna Mueller." The same nod and thin, expressionless face. The same paleness. Faded hazel eyes; hair white and trimmed close to her head; body emaciated. "Daniel Carlyle, astrogator." The nod. Like the doctor's brother, thought Colonel Halter, and yet like the lieutenant with his cropped hair and with an identical goatee. "Caroline Gordon, dietician and televisor. John Crowley, rocketman." Each nodded, expressionless, their faces like white, weathered statues in a desert. Colonel Halter turned to the captain. The rocket thrum of the tugs had become a roar as the gravity pulled against the antique hull. "We understand," said Colonel Halter, "that you demand repairs for your ship and fuel enough to take you back into deep space." "That is right." The voice was low, slightly harsh. "You're all close to a hundred years old. You'd die out there. Here, with medical aid, you'd easily live to a hundred and twenty-five." Dr. Anna Mueller's head moved slightly. "We're aware of that, Colonel." "It'd be pointless," said the colonel, "and a shameful waste. You're still the only crew that ever made it out beyond the Solar System. You've kept records of your personal experience, how you survived. They're valuable." Dr. Mueller caught her breath. "Our adjustment to space is our private concern. I don't think you could understand." "Maybe not, but we could try. To _us_, of course, complete adjustment is a living death." "To us, it was a matter of staying alive." Halter turned aside from disagreement, searching for common ground. "You'd be protected here, you know. You deserve that." "Who'd protect us from you?" asked the captain. "Life in the Solar System is destructive." * * * * * Brady, the lieutenant, leaned forward. "You've failed--all through the whole System." "We haven't finished living in it," said Halter. "Who can pin a label on us of success or failure?" Miss Gordon, dietician and televisor, said quietly, "There are some records I'd like to show you. We compiled them while the _Alpha_ was drifting back into the System." Halter watched the frail arm reach out and turn a dial. A point of light grew on the screen in Colonel Halter's office. "Pluto," said her quiet voice. Halter watched the lightspot focus on a mountain of ice. Men in suits of steel were crawling up its frozen side. Other men on the mountain's top were sighting guns. The men below were sighting guns. Yellow fire spurted from the top and the sides of the mountain, blending into a lake of fire. There was a great hissing and a rushing torrent of boiling water and rolling, twisting steel-clad bodies. The mountain of ice melted like a lump of lard in a hot frying pan. Only the steel bodies glinted, motionless, in the pale wash of sunlight.