"Only one figure has come out," reported Baird. The skipper watched on a vision plate, but Baird reported so all the _Niccola's_ company would know. "It's small--less than five feet ... I'll see better in a moment." Sunlight smote down into the valley between the ships. "It's wearing a pressure suit. It seems to be the same material as the ship. It walks on two legs, as we do ... It has two arms, or something very similar ... The helmet of the suit is very high ... It looks like the armor knights used to fight in ... It's making its way to our air lock ... It does not use magnetic-soled shoes. It's holding onto lines threaded along the other ship's hull ..." The skipper said curtly: "_Mr. Baird! I hadn't noticed the absence of magnetic shoes. You seem to have an eye for important items. Report to the air lock in person. Leave Lieutenant Holt to keep an eye on outside objects. Quickly, Mr. Baird!_" * * * * * Baird laid his hand on Diane's shoulder. She smiled at him. "I'll watch!" she promised. He went out of the radar room, walking on what had been a side wall. The giddiness and dizziness of continued rotation was growing less, now. He was getting used to it. But the _Niccola_ seemed strange indeed, with the standard up and down and Earth-gravity replaced by a vertical which was all askew and a weight of ounces instead of a hundred and seventy pounds. He reached the air lock just as the skipper arrived. There were others there--armed and in pressure suits. The skipper glared about him. "I am in command here," he said very grimly indeed. "Mr. Taine has a special function, but I am in command! We and the creatures on the Plumie ship are in a very serious fix. One of them apparently means to come on board. There will be no hostility, no sneering, no threatening gestures! This is a parley! You will be careful. But you will not be trigger-happy!" He glared around again, just as a metallic rapping came upon the _Niccola's_ air-lock door. The skipper nodded: "Let him in the lock, Mr. Baird." Baird obeyed. The humming of the unlocking-system sounded. There were clankings. The outer air lock dosed. There was a faint whistling as air went in. The skipper nodded again. Baird opened the inner door. It was 08 hours 10 minutes ship time. The Plumie stepped confidently out into the topsy-turvy corridors of the _Niccola_. He was about the size of a ten-year-old human boy, and features which were definitely not grotesque showed through the clear plastic of his helmet. His pressure suit was, engineering-wise, a very clean job. His whole appearance was prepossessing. When he spoke, very clear and quite high sounds--soprano sounds--came from a small speaker-unit at his shoulder. "For us to talk," said the skipper heavily, "is pure nonsense. But I take it you've something to say."