They both nodded. As far as they were concerned, the command decision had been made. But I was sitting under two inches of sweat. "One question," Tom said. "Why did you pick Monroe for the scout?" "I was afraid you'd ask that," I told him. "We're three extremely unathletic Ph.D.s who have been in the Army since we finished our schooling. There isn't too much choice. But I remembered that Monroe is half Indian--Arapahoe, isn't it, Monroe?--and I'm hoping blood will tell." "Only trouble, Colonel," Monroe said slowly as he rose, "is that I'm one-_fourth_ Indian and even that.... Didn't I ever tell you that my great-grandfather was the only Arapahoe scout who was with Custer at the Little Big Horn? He'd been positive Sitting Bull was miles away. However, I'll do my best. And if I heroically don't come back, would you please persuade the Security Officer of our section to clear my name for use in the history books? Under the circumstances, I think it's the least he could do." I promised to do my best, of course. * * * * * After he took off, I sat in the dome over the telephone connection to Tom and hated myself for picking Monroe to do the job. But I'd have hated myself just as much for picking Tom. And if anything happened and I had to tell Tom to blast off, I'd probably be sitting here in the dome all by myself after that, waiting.... "_Broz neggle!_" came over the radio in Monroe's resonant voice. He had landed the single-seater. I didn't dare use the telephone to chat with Tom in the ship, for fear I might miss an important word or phrase from our scout. So I sat and sat and strained my ears. After a while, I heard "_Mishgashu!_" which told me that Monroe was in the neighborhood of the other dome and was creeping toward it under cover of whatever boulders were around. [Illustration] And then, abruptly, I heard Monroe yell my name and there was a terrific clattering in my headphones. Radio interference! He'd been caught, and whoever had caught him had simultaneously jammed his suit transmitter with a larger transmitter from the alien dome. Then there was silence. After a while, I told Tom what had happened. He just said, "Poor Monroe." I had a good idea of what his expression was like. "Look, Tom," I said, "if you take off now, you still won't have anything important to tell. After capturing Monroe, whatever's in that other dome will come looking for us, I think. I'll let them get close enough for us to learn something of their appearance--at least if they're human or non-human. Any bit of information about them is important. I'll shout it up to you and you'll still be able to take off in plenty of time. All right?" "You're the boss, Colonel," he said in a mournful voice. "Lots of luck."