"It took almost an hour to find him again. He was in the bottom of a little ravine, leaning against a rock. He seemed to be all right until we were close. Then he picked up a stick and started swinging it around like a wild man. He was clear crazy. I finally had to hit him over the head with a rock to save myself. He was true crazy." So that was what they had been so hesitant in telling him! Gallifa shook his head in bewilderment. Bradshaw was one of his most competent men. It didn't make sense that he suddenly should go berserk. Something seemed to be missing in the report. "That doesn't sound right," Gallifa argued stubbornly. "Are you sure Bradshaw wasn't scared half to death by something? A man sometimes does some funny things if he's scared." "Maybe he _was_ scared," Hawkins admitted. "But he was sure acting crazy. I'm sorry--" He spread his hands helplessly and walked away, accompanied by the mapping officer. Gallifa glanced at his wrist watch and swore softly to himself. He had planned to get an early start, but the Bradshaw tragedy was too important. They still knew relatively nothing about the planet. If a man could wander around for only an hour or so and return with grievous, unexplained injuries--Well, it obviously needed looking into. It would be difficult enough to finish the pre-colonization survey in the allotted time under the best of circumstances, and this was hardly what could be called a smooth beginning. He sighed and walked over to the hospital. Dr. Thorndyke, a small, swarthy man with the penetrating gaze of his profession, greeted him with a shrug and a puzzled frown. Gallifa framed the question with his eyes. "I don't know," the doctor said slowly. "Frankly, I've never seen anything like this before. Your man seems to have lost his mind completely, yet his reactions are at least pseudo-normal. He has an intense homicidal mania, however. He regained consciousness unexpectedly and almost brained two of my medics with a headboard before we could give him a hypo. I don't know whether he'll improve or not. But I've classified him unfit for further survey duty." Gallifa shook his head in disbelief. The doctor had told him exactly nothing. He had intelligently diagnosed Bradshaw's condition, but he apparently hadn't the slightest idea what had caused it. It was damned strange. Bradshaw's psych check certainly hadn't hinted at any instability. The initial spot check notwithstanding, maybe there _was_ something disturbingly wrong with this planet. If such were the case, his team would have to uncover it. The problem would belong to Gallifa. II The planet--as yet unnamed--had been surveyed by the spotting cruiser and pronounced suitable for colonization to nine-point-oh on a scale of ten. Of course, the nine-point figure was really only a pro tem rating. The cruiser hadn't been able to conduct a personal survey. That more difficult undertaking would fall to the lot of the pre-col crew.