Keating let his eyes wander across the cabin.... To Stewart Ferguson, white-looking, and curiously without comment.... To Diane, outraged amazement on her face--but still a woman. And to Norman Hamlin, wondering what made the man tick--but still a doctor. He looked back at Spero, blowing small curls of smoke at the ceiling. No, he didn't have to take a vote. Impulsively, he waved the gun in the direction of the cubbyhole where Diane had been sleeping. "Get in there," he said tightly. Spero stubbed out the cigarette, swiveled a tight-lipped smile across each member of the party, then shrugged his shoulders and shuffled into the room. Carl locked the door and stuck the key in his pocket along with the key to the gun case. While neither of the locks were built for durability, at least Spero would have to make a noise opening them. To the others he said: "I'd suggest we make our future plans without figuring on Spero's cooperation." "But how can we," Dr. Hamlin said. "We'll have to find Edgerton, Mitchell and Rhind first. They're the only ones who know the answer to what we're after." "The secret of immortality is nothing more than the secret of breathing the air here," Carl said crisply. "Let's not kid ourselves about that." "Well, what is the secret?" Hamlin said impatiently. "I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea." Carl studied the man intently. "Haven't you?" Diane shot him an odd look. "What's that supposed to mean?" Hamlin said hotly. Keating ignored the question and jerked a finger at the window. "Suppose we leave Spero here and go over and activate the blister. It's much more comfortable. It'll be a nice change after being cramped up here for six weeks." "Suppose you explain that statement first?" Hamlin said. "There's jumpers in the airlock," Carl went on. "I'll explain after we're settled over there. Who knows, maybe by that time I'll be ready to apologize." "I certainly hope so," Hamlin mumbled. "I can't understand what's got into everyone all of a sudden." "This way," Carl said. Inside the lock, he helped each member of the party into a jumper and adjusted the air valves. When everything was in order, he pressed a switch, and the lock-door hissed open. Another moment, and they were wading through the purple-brown, ankle-deep slosh of Venus. The blister-building was only about three hundred yards from the ship, but the rain--coming down in torrents now--had turned the ground into a soft-slimy ooze that was sometimes knee deep. Carl led the way, shouting instructions through the speaker-unit encased in his helmet. Once when Diane fell, he went back and helped her to her feet. Through the helmet glass, he could see her face for a moment. Then she jerked her arm free and plodded on. Behind him he heard Stewart Ferguson swear.