"Do I? You forget one thing, Tarnuff. The Patrol's still looking for a ship named _Lucifer_ and your attempt to disguise it was pretty clumsy. I had intended to let you escape at your convenience, but now I'll just have to take you _and_ this ship back to Earth. That should be conclusive enough." But Tarnuff was smiling blandly, leaning back in the chair. He was hugely amused at something, and Ron was vaguely worried without exactly knowing why. "No, Ron Jordan," the Martian was saying. "I don't think you'll dare set this spacer on Earth or any other planet." "Why not?" "Because you know too well the penalty for Silicyte smuggling. Has it not occurred to you what my cargo is? I'm carrying a full load of Silicytes at this moment. As soon as you set down anywhere I'll swear to the authorities that you're my accomplice in this. They'll believe it, too, in view of what happened to your brother; they'll think slave trading runs in your family!" Tarnuff laughed harshly, looking up at Ron's suddenly perplexed face. * * * * * It was several seconds before Ron could realize the implication of the words. Then he said explosively: "I don't believe you!" "You don't believe I've got the Silicytes aboard? Come and see for yourself." Ron knew by the man's cool insolence that he spoke the truth. But he followed Tarnuff back into the ship anyway, keeping him at pistol point. The Martian unlocked and threw back several doors ... and there were the Silicytes. Only twice in his life had Ron ever seen the queer creatures, and never at this close range. They stood erect, and were roughly human in shape, but that's as far as the resemblance went. They were formed of thousands of faceted crystals which clung together with peculiar cohesion, flashing iridescently whenever they moved! Instead of arms, dozens of chain-like crystalline tentacles hung down from a position near the shoulders. The creatures appeared so brittle and fragile that it seemed they would fall apart at the slightest touch, but this was purely illusion. They possessed a dull sort of intelligence but obeyed instructions implicitly once they understood, and they'd work for tremendous lengths of time to earn the scraps of metal which they absorbed and relished. For this reason they brought fabulous prices on such outposts as Callisto, despite the fact that the owners had to work them discreetly, hiding them whenever inspectors came. "You see, Jordan?" Tarnuff said, closing the doors. "And that's only part of 'em. I've got over a hundred aboard. You can put the pistol away now, you won't need it." He moved past Ron and back to the control room.