"Tell them to hurry," the Venusian cut in mockingly. "They have until nine-thirty o'clock." Mart Wells glanced fearfully at the dial of the chronometer. It was eight-forty now. He turned and caught the Director's glance. "_The timer!_" he said grimly. "Captain Wayne said it was missing from the wrecked ship. He must have--" The Venusian was grinning. "Exactly. The timer. And a pound of uranite. That gives you fifty minutes to search Callisto. It would be wiser to spend the time getting a ship ready for me instead." The silence of the office was broken only by the low voice of Captain Wayne giving orders into the communicator. Abruptly he turned to his superior. His face was white. "Search is on, sir. But if he isn't lying, there's a chance in a million. Less than an hour, and the area to be covered is--" Barrow was looking straight ahead, and not a muscle of his face moved until he spoke. "I'm afraid he isn't bluffing. No reason why he should be. Leah is gone and the timer is gone. And a pirate ship would have uranite." "The ship?" asked Tar Norn. "It will take some time to fuel it and--" Director Barrow's voice was positive. "There will be no ship for you, Tar Norn." Roger Corey's voice cut in, jerkily. "Let me work on him, sir. Me and Wayne. Maybe we can make him talk." Barrow shook his head. "No use, Corey. Venusians don't mind pain as much as Earthmen. They almost like it. You could take him apart, and he wouldn't talk." The pirate's smile faded. "It will take half an hour to prepare the ship, Director Barrow. Better not stall too long." Mart said, his voice urgent. "But, sir, _Leah_! What's one pirate compared to--" Barrow's face was granite-like. "He's killed hundreds of people. If we release him, he'll kill hundreds more. One life cannot weigh against that. Corey, take him away. Lock him up until the next ship leaves for Earth." Mart's fists were clenched, his fingernails biting into the palms. But he knew Barrow was right; that he couldn't possibly take any other course and be worthy of his post. One life couldn't weigh against the many lives that meeting the pirate's terms would mean. That was where Tar Norn had miscalculated. A Venusian didn't understand responsibility to society, nor any higher ideal than self-interest. Tar Norn tossed the wig and glasses to the floor as Corey took his arm. His pupil-less eyes seemed to glow with anger. "You won't murder your own daughter, Director. This is a bluff. But mine isn't. She dies at nine-thirty unless you find her. I swear that by the _Eternal Varga_." Mart cursed. Fists balled, he lunged toward the Venusian. Barrow put a hand on his arm. "Don't, Wells. That's up to the Interplanetary Council." "But he's _not_ bluffing," Mart raved. "Leah will surely die at nine-thirty. That damned oath. _Varga._ It's the only thing a Venusian is afraid of. He isn't--" His voice broke. Corey started off with the Venusian.