The lawyer smiled. He'd grown to like Bridge. The mystery of his wealth had been discovered months ago--he'd won a sweepstake fortune. That and his own meager savings had together proved just sufficient to buy him a new lease of life. His family hadn't liked the idea; but, as he'd pointed out to them, it was his money and what use was it to him if he was too old to enjoy it? The simplicity and good nature of the man came as a refreshing change from the sullenness of Pellinger and the cynicism of Jason Tarsh. "It's a radio-platform," Delman explained. * * * * * Sometimes it seemed almost incredible that John Bridge had never left the Earth. He was a Londoner by birth and, before this trip, had traveled no farther than New York. To him, everything they saw and did was a new adventure. "But we don't have radio-platforms back home," Bridge said. "Why do they need them here?" "In our own solar system," Delman told him, "there's an interplanetary link-up--an expensive business--but we did have them four hundred years ago. Out here, it's not worth the cost. The platform acts as a go-between. It can intercept messages and pass them down to the spacedrome on Algon, or it can transmit to a spaceship in flight. But direct contact between spaceship and spacedrome is impossible, because the ionized layer of the atmosphere deflects the radio waves." "I see. Is there one over Rejuvenal, then?" "I don't think so. At least, there wasn't when I was last there. It doesn't really warrant it. There's only the house and a small landing-ground. And a spaceboat arrives and departs every thirty days, so nothing can happen." "What about boots? Do we have to wear them?" "You mean gravity-boots?" Delman asked. Walter Pellinger scowled irritably and shifted his position. "Yes, I suppose so--those heavy things we wore on Borenius and Ziar." Delman shook his head. "No, curiously enough, we don't. It's only a tertiary planet--less than one-eighth of Earth's volume--but its specific gravity is enormous. Rejuvenite, the rock it's composed of, is one of the heaviest minerals ever discovered. They say--" "Look, Delman," Walter Pellinger interrupted, "let that blasted man wear his boots, if he wants to. I'm sure I don't care. But for heaven's sake, stop this geological survey! It's bad enough being cooped up in this tub without having to listen to a lot of nursery small-talk." "Gosh, I'm sorry, Mr. Pellinger--" John Bridge began. "I wasn't talking to you," said Pellinger curtly, "but, since you've chosen to butt in, I'll say this--you don't belong here. You're a stupid, ignorant lout, and if you worked in any of my stores, which could never happen in the first place, I'd fire you on the spot and the idiot who hired you, too." "Aren't you being a little unjust?" Curtis Delman spoke softly, but there was an edge of underlying menace in his voice. * * * * *