Ekstrohm frowned. There was one question. He was sure there was one question.... Oh, yes. The question was: How did he know he was sane? He didn't know, of course. That was as good an answer as any. Might as well accept it; might as well let them do what they wanted with him. Maybe if he just gave up, gave in, maybe he could sleep then. Maybe he could ... Ekstrohm sat upright in his chair. No. That wasn't the answer. He couldn't know that he was sane, but then neither could anybody else. The point was, you had to go ahead living as if you were sane. That was the only way of living. "Cosmos," Ryan gasped. "Would you look at that!" Ekstrohm followed the staring gaze of the two men. On the video grid, one of the "dead" animals was slowly rising, getting up, walking away. "A natural phenomenon!" Ekstrohm said. "Suspended animation!" Nogol ventured. "Playing possum!" Ryan concluded. Now came the time for apologies. Ekstrohm had been through similar situations before, ever since he had been found walking the corridors at college the night one of the girls had been attacked. He didn't want to hear their apologies; they meant nothing to him. It was not a matter of forgiving them. He knew the situation had not changed. They would suspect him just as quickly a second time. "We're supposed to be an exploration team," Ekstrohm said quickly. "Let's get down to business. Why do you suppose these alien creatures fake death?" [Illustration] Nogol shrugged his wiry shoulders. "Playing dead is easier than fighting." "More likely it's a method of fighting," Ryan suggested. "They play dead until they see an opening. Then--_ripppp_." "I think they're trying to hide some secret," Ekstrohm said. "What secret?" Ryan demanded. "I don't know," he answered. "Maybe I'd better--sleep on it." III Ryan observed his two crewmen confidently the next morning. "I did some thinking last night." _Great_, Ekstrohm thought. _For that you should get a Hazardous Duty bonus._ "This business is pretty simple," the captain went on, "these pigs simply play possum. They go into a state of suspended animation, when faced by a strange situation. Xenophobia! I don't see there's much more to it." "Well, if you don't see that there's more to it, Ryan--" Nogol began complacently. "Wait a minute," Ekstrohm interjected. "That's a good theory. It may even be the correct one, but where's your _proof_?" "Look, Stormy, we don't have to have proof. Hell, we don't even have to have theories. We're explorers. We just make reports of primary evidence and let the scientists back home in the System figure them out." "I want this thing cleared up, Ryan. Yesterday, you were accusing me of being some kind of psycho who was lousing up the expedition out of pure--pure--" he searched for a term currently in use in mentology--"_demonia_. Maybe the boys back home will think the same thing. I want to be cleared."