"I ... I know," the girl said tightly. "Dad used to hear those stories, too, when he and Allers were prospecting here. When Dad died he left me enough money to charter this ship, told me to come here to Ceres for my legacy. Gave me the chart showing where this pocket of pitchblend was located." She glanced at the lead chests. "Now Allers, Dad's closest friend, is gone. And Kennerly. And we're trapped, made virtual prisoners in this ship by something unknown--out there. We've got to get word through, Mr. Grant! It's death to stay here until our oxygen is gone. Death, maybe worse, waiting for us out there in the darkness...." She broke off, suddenly, swaying. "Steady!" Grant gripped the girl's shoulder. "It's the bad air! I'll go tell Harris to crack open one of the emergency oxygen flasks. You'd better lie down." Like a flash the girl's red head snapped up. "You're a romanticist, Mr. Grant," she said. "You seem to think I ought to be a languishing heroine. Well, I'm not. I'm in command of this expedition and if there're any risks to be taken, I'm taking them! Have Harris open an oxygen flask and then check over my space-suit! As soon as I get my breath, I'm going out and look for Allers and Kennerly!" She waved aside Grant's remonstrances. "Orders, Mr. Grant!" Face stony, Grant left the control room, strode along the companionway to the fo'castle. The _Comet's_ crew, perhaps half a dozen men all told, were stretched upon their bunks, faces drawn as they fought against the stale air. Grant motioned to Harris, the squat, ugly mate. "Air's getting thick," he said. "Better crack an emergency tube." "Aye, aye, sir!" Harris lifted a steel plate in the floor, swung down the iron ladder. Some moments later he emerged from the storehold, carrying an oxygen flask. "Funny!" The mate rubbed his stubbly chin. "I coulda swore we had twenty emergency flasks below. But there's only five more down there." "Five!" Grant's eyes narrowed. "There were twenty when we left earth! I counted 'em!" "That's not all," Harris muttered. "There's other stores missing! Wire, tools, batteries, spare plates for repairing the hull!" His eyes flicked toward the darkness beyond the portholes. "There were plenty of times we were all down at the mine working when whatever it was that got Allers and Kennerly might have entered the ship, taken those things. I've seen shadows out there sometimes. Shadows that weren't just right, sliding among the rocks. And ... and it's bad luck to have a woman aboard ship." A silence fell over the cabin. Grant frowned. Five flasks of oxygen ... and the air-regenerator useless without power! Nothing could save them unless word got through to Bowman's Crater, on the edge of the Cerean Darkside. Two men had tried to get through, and those two men had vanished. To permit Joan Conway to attempt the trip was unthinkable. Grant reached for one of the bulky space-suits that hung on the wall.