Venza shifted her silk-sheathed legs. "Don't talk in code!" "Not normally visible," I repeated. "A world one-fifth as large as the Moon could be seen plainly by our 'scopes when well beyond Pluto. It's now between Jupiter and Mars, invisible to the naked eye, of course, but still it's not very far away. I've been out there myself. With instruments, we ought to be able to see its surface; see whether it has land and water, inhabitants perhaps. You should be able to distinguish an object on its surface as large as a city, but you can't." "Why not?" asked Anita. "Are the clouds too thick? What causes it?" "They don't even know that," I retorted. "There is something abnormal about the light-waves coming from it. Not exactly blurred, but a distortion, a fading. It's some abnormality of the light-waves." A swift rapping on our door-grid interrupted me, and Snap Dean burst in. "Hola-lo, everybody! Is it a conference? You look so solemn." He dashed across the room, kissed Venza, pretended that he was about to kiss Anita, and winked at me. He was a dynamic little fellow, small, wiry, red-headed and freckle-faced, and had been the radio-helio operator of the ill-fated _Planetara_. He was a perfect match for Venza, for all the millions of miles that separated their native lands. Venza, too was small and slim, her manner as readily jocular as his. "And where have you been?" Venza demanded. "Me? My private life is my own, so far. We're not married yet, since you insist on us going to Grebhar for the ceremony." "Do stop it," protested Anita. "We've been talking of...." "I know very well what you've been talking about. Everybody is. I've got news for you, Gregg." He went abruptly solemn and lowered his voice. "Halsey wants to see us, right away." I regarded him blankly and my mind swept back. No more than a few short weeks ago Detective-Colonel Halsey of Divisional Headquarters here in Greater New York had sent for us, and we had been precipitated into the Grantline affair. "Halsey!" I burst out. "Easy, Gregg." Snap cast a vague look around Anita's draped apartment. An open window was beside us, leading to a tiny catwalk balcony. It was moonlit now, and two hundred feet above the pedestrian viaduct. But Snap continued to frown. "Easy, I tell you. Why shout about Halsey? The air can have ears." Venza moved and closed and sealed the window. "What is it?" I asked, more softly. But Snap was not satisfied. "Anita, do you have a complete isolation barrage for this room?" "Of course I haven't, Snap." "Well, Gregg do you have a detector with you?" I had none. Snap produced his little coil and indicator dial. "It's out of order, but let's see now. Shove over that chair, Gregg." He disconnected one of the room's tube-lights and contacted with the cathode. It was a makeshift method, but as he dropped to the floor, uncoiling a little length of his wire for an external pick-up, we saw that the thing worked. The pointer on the dial-face was swaying.