The ship began to glow softly, flushing a soft, delicate green. The light bathed the interior, turning the men a ghastly hue. Gunn shivered and looked at Emerson, who went to the port window; stood staring out, gasping. "Wot's happenin' now?" choked Gunn. "We're off the ground! Whatever it is, it's lifting us." The others crowded about him, looking out. Here the green was more vivid, intense. They could feel its surging power tingling on their skins. Beneath them, the jagged peak of the mountain almost grazed the hull. Spread out under their eyes was the panorama of a dead planet. Great rocks lay split and tumbled over one another in a black desolation. Sunlight glinting on their jagged edges, made harsh shadows. Far to the north a mountain range shrugged its snow-topped peaks to a sullen sky. To the south, beyond the rocks, lay a white waste of desert. To the west-- "A city," yelled Nichols, "the place is inhabited. Thank God, thank God--" Mussdorf erupted laughter. "For what? How do we know what they're like? An inhabited planet doesn't mean men. We found that out--several times." "We can hope," said Emerson sharply. "Maybe they have some radium, stored so that our spectroscope couldn't pick it up." The mighty globe that hung over the city glimmered in the morning suns. Beneath it, the white towers and spires of the city reared in alien loveliness above graceful buildings and rounded roofs. A faint mist seemed to hang in the city streets. "It's empty," said Nichols heavily. "Deserted." "Something's alive," protested Emerson. "Something that spoke to us, that is controlling this green beam." * * * * * A section of the globe slid back, and the spaceship moved through the opening. The globe slipped back and locked after it. "They have us now," grunted Mussdorf. He slid his fingers along the transparent window, pressing hard, the skin showing white as his knuckles lifted. He said swiftly, "You guys can stay here if you want, but I'm getting myself a sun-blaster. Two of them. I'm not going to be caught short when the time for action comes." He swung through the trap and out of sight. They heard him running below; heard the slam of opened doors, the withdrawal of the guns. They could imagine him belting them about his waist. "Bring us some," cried Emerson suddenly, and turned again to look out the window. The spaceship settled down on the white flagging of an immense square. The green beam was gone, suddenly. The uncanny silence of the place pressed in on them. "Think it's safe to go out?" asked Nichols. "Try the atmospheric recorder," said Emerson. "If the air's okay, I'd like to stretch my own legs." Nichols twisted chrome wheels, staring at a red line that wavered on a plastic screen, then straightened abruptly, rigid. "Hey," yelled Nichols excitedly. "It's pure. I mean actually pure. No germs. No dust. Just clean air!" Emerson leaped to his side, staring, frowning.