"Why should it? After all a starfish and a human being have a lot in common. Like them, you have eaten oysters on the half shell, and they're usually alive when you gulp them down. I can't see where our digestive juices are any easier on the oyster than those of a starfish." "Remind me never to eat another raw oyster," I said. "On second thought you won't have to. You've ruined my appetite for them forever." Bergdorf chuckled. "Well, now that you've disposed of one of my eating habits," I said bitterly, "let's get back to the problem. I presume that you'll have to find where the oysters are before you start in working them over with starfish." "You've hit the reason why I'm here. That's the big problem. I want to find their source." "Don't you know?" "I can make a pretty good guess. You see, we picked this limb out of the Equatorial current. As you know, Varnel Island is situated right at the western termination of the current. We don't get much littoral stuff unless it comes from the Islands or West Beta. And as far as I can figure the islands are the best bet. These spat probably came from the Piralones, that island group in the middle of the current about halfway across." I nodded. "It would be a good bet. They're uninhabited. If Harl wanted an isolated spot to conduct oyster planting experiments, I couldn't think of a better location. Nobody in his right mind would visit that place willingly. The islands support the damnedest assortment of siths you ever saw." "If that's where it is," Bergdorf said, "we can thank heaven for the natives' suspicious nature. That location may help us save this world!" I laughed at him. "Don't be so grim, Heinz--or so godlike. We're not going to save any worlds." "Someone has to save them." "We don't qualify. What we'll do is chase this business down. We'll find out where the oysters come from, get an idea of how bad things are and then let the Niobians know about it. If anyone is going to save this planet it won't be a bunch of Confederation exploration specialists." Bergdorf sighed. "You're right, of course." I slapped him on the shoulder. "Cheer up, Heinz." I turned to my appointment calendar and checked it over. There was nothing on it that couldn't wait a few days. "Tell you what," I continued. "I need a vacation from this place. We'll take my atomic job and go oyster hunting. It ought to be fun." Bergdorf's grin was like a sunrise on Kardon. * * * * * I brought the 'copter down slowly through the overcast, feeling my way cautiously down to the ground that radar told me was somewhere below. We were hardly a hundred and fifty meters up before it became visible through the drenching tropic rain. Unless you've seen it you can't imagine what rain is really like until you've been in the Niobian tropics. It literally swamps everything, including visibility. It was the Piralones all right.