They then saw a human brain, locked in the powerful embrace of gravity. And the tiny pulsations and complex motions, the processes of thought, were, as with the disk, sluggish--in large portions not even present. They watched a brain come alive as gravity decreased. It bulged, the tempo of motion rising, parts long dormant surging with power. They saw and they understood. "If only we could go back and help them," sighed Jones. "If we could overcome that gravity on Earth!" Again the being smiled his kind smile. "If you returned it would be to the same mental prison. You could not, in your crude manner, convince them." The two knew what they must do, even before the being spoke again. "The others, the rest, wait beyond the light of universes," he said. "We think. We learn. Soon, we will find a way of helping those on Earth, and we will return. Come with me." They replied together. "We are ready." On the dark side of the moon, where they had been projected by identical velocities, lay the battered wrecks of four gleaming rockets. And in all the wreckage, among all the bits of twisted metal, there was not a single drop of human blood.