He was a very anxious looking gent. And no wonder. * * * * * Well, after that tempus fidgeted, as it has a habit of doing, the static had cleared, and I established contact with Joe Marlowe at Lunar III. He said he'd try to scare up the info I wanted, but it might take time. I told him to go ahead; I had more time on my hands than a professional watch repairer. So we dillied and dallied, and after a while back he came, loaded with more facts than Mr. Britannica put in his encyclopedia. The Themis situation, it seemed, was plenty complex. The first peace pact had been signed eight months ago between the Thagwar of Themis and the Solar Space Cruiser, _Ajax_, Col. A. R. Prentiss commanding. Swell! Only two weeks later the Themisites had murdered in cold blood an agent sent there by the Cosmic Corporation to set up a trading post! The S.S.P. had sent a second expedition. This party reported hostile reception. Then, after a whole day wasted in attempting to get in touch with the Thagwar, the Themisites had suddenly turned friendly--and signed a second treaty. This one had lasted exactly four days. It was busted when the quadrupeds dittoed the craniums of a party of miners who dropped gravs for fresh water supplies! Why go on? Expeditions Three, Four, Five and Six had all followed the same pattern ... an agreeable understanding followed by a swift kick in the nose. Our experience was no novelty; we were just number Seven on the Themisite hit-and-run parade. "In view of the circumstances," Joe Marlowe wound up his report, "the authorities here suggest that Captain Hanson get the situation in hand and get the situation in hand and get the situation in hand and get the situation--" I cut in on him--but quick! "Hold everything!" I shot back. "Let's play like he now has the situation in hand. What happens next?" "Let him contact the Thagwar of Themis," bugged Marlowe, "and contact the Thagwar of Themis and contact the Thagwar of Themis and contact--" Biggs was in the turret with me. He can read code almost as well as I can. He stared at me curiously. "What's the matter, Sparks?" "Don't ask me," I retorted. "I only work here. It sounds like Marlowe's developed a bad case of digital hiccups! Oh, well, we've got the information we wanted, anyhow. I'll sign off." So I did. Biggs asked, "And--and Diane?" "No word yet. Joe will let us know. The circuit's still open. Well, you've heard the report. What do you make of it?" Biggs said slowly, "I don't know, Sparks. It's very peculiar. I'll have to think it over--_Yes? What is it?_" He spoke this last to the wall audio which had come to life. Cap Hanson answered from the bridge. "Lanse, are you there, son? Listen, come up to the bridge right away, will you?" Swift apprehension tightened Biggs' features. "What's the matter? The Themisites getting violent? They're not attacking the ship?" Hanson groaned like the guest artist at a seance.