Listening to him, Lynne wondered why so many otherwise human and reasonably slangy young officials fell into the jabberwocky jargon of government reports once they began discussing their business. It was, she decided, drilled into them during their schooling, a sort of illiterate but precise articulateness. The element lay over most of the plain, an area of seven square kilometers, much of it right on the surface. It was, Suzuki said, “of a sort of opalescent yellow, soft to the touch despite the cold here. It looked like all we’d have to do was inaugurate operations, take samples and return to home base.” Proceeding methodically under the leadership of Wing Officer Arthur Mitropoulos, Callisto Mission had set up camp on the plane, right over the mine it intended to open. On the “morning” operations were to begin, Suzuki and the maintenance crew had been alerted to stand by to relay messages to base from the ships. Then had come the blast--utterly destroying camp and machinery and all the men in it. “We tried to send an S.O.S.,” he concluded, “and were blasted again. Three more times it happened. So we put out the fuel cans and sat tight. Frankly, we’re stumped. We don’t know what to do next.” Within the metal skin of the ship, Lynne and Rolf could exchange telepathic messages, but it would be impossible to send one out through space with enough power to reach Mars or any possible rescue ship that might be winging its way toward Callisto. Lynne thought, _What about our suits? They didn’t feel like metal._ Rolf’s reply came, _Good_ ZWIRCHY _girl! Maybe we can do it._ When they explained their plan to Suzuki, he shook his head in wonder and said, “I’ve heard of Martian telepathy but I never thought I’d be using it. Do you think it’s safe?” Rolf said, “We’re following up a telepathic disaster on Mars, induced by this super-monster you’ve found. But as long as we don’t beam our thoughts on it, I think we’ll be all right. Besides, operating in relay, it’s not likely to get both of us.” _You hope_, Lynne telepathed and received a mental image of fingers firmly crossed. A half-hour later, she and Rolf stood again on the frozen atmosphere of the big satellite. Again Lynne’s nose itched infuriatingly, but this time she soon forgot her discomfort and she and Rolf linked minds and began sending to Nampura Depot. Around them, the appalling crescendo of unearthly thoughts and dreams rolled disturbingly, making concentration next to impossible. They tried and failed, then tried again--and again. And, finally, they got _Nampura Depot, Mars, Fenlay. Who are you?_ _Callisto Mission calling, Marcein and Fenlay. Hello Revere._ They were through--and without being blasted. Rolf gave Lynne’s telepathic twin brother the message, stating the conditions on the satellite and asking that rescue ships stand clear until the situation was remedied. He concluded with, _Relay to E.I.A. Headquarters. And stand by for further messages._