"There is madness on this world, indeed," he went on, after a moment, "but it did not originate here. Kam and Torp, when they returned from the watery planet, Planet 72-P-2, brought back the virus of madness with them. Both of them were infected, and their brief stay on this planet served to spread the disease here also. "All over Earth, or as we call it, 72-P-3, the madness is spreading. Where there was peace and plenty there is now war and starvation. Most of this sub-human animal race will be wiped out before this madness has run its course." "Yet you escaped its ravages," Urol said. "Have you discovered how to control this madness?" "But I did not escape," Thig told him. "For many days after I returned to Earth I was insane. Torp and Kam had infected me as well. But I am strong, and I threw off the disease. At intervals it recurs but I strap myself down so I cannot harm myself before the madness passes." "By the Law of the Horde," said Urol slowly, "you should be destroyed if the disease is incurable." "I know. I feared that another expedition would come and carry the madness back to the Horde. I kept myself alive to warn you. I will show you the ravages of the disease, and then destroy myself." "It is good," agreed Urol. "We are preparing to land now." The communication link snapped between them. Above the island a tiny black speck swelled until it became a vast grubby bulk of metal supported by flaring jets of gaseous fuel. The thick ship slowed its sheer drop, and with a final burst of fire from blackened jets, came to rest. Thig looked to his decomposition blaster to see that it was thoroughly charged. This was perhaps the hundredth time he had examined his weapon. He chuckled at the ease with which the leader of the mother planet's ship had been tricked into believing his fantastic tale. All that remained now was to gain admission into the space ship. He left his own little life boat and walked toward the space cruiser. He reached the outer lock and attempted to open it. It was stuck. He tugged futilely at the pitted metal of the controls, and after a moment hammered at the door with a lump of volcanic rock. A speaker from just inside the door broke in upon his labor. He dropped the rock and listened. "Why do you attack the door?" it asked. "The lock is stuck," answered Thig. "No," the Hordeman's voice said, "the lock is not stuck. It is sealed against the possibility of contamination from the atmosphere of 72-P-3." "I cannot join you?" asked Thig as calmly as he could. Despair contracted his vitals as he saw this latest plan go glimmering. "Naturally not!" The speaker's voice showed as much surprise as it was possible for an Orthan to display. "We can take no chances on the madness infecting any of us before we carry this information back to Ortha." "I will tell you as much as I know," said Thig. "It is fortunate that I am outside the ship."