ed unattended and disregarded on minus time while the
entire force of the Interplanetary Corporation concentrated upon the
battle-scarred old hulk of the _Sirius_. Brandon was surprised when he
saw the two companies of police, but characteristically accepted without
question the wisdom of any decision of his friend, and cordially greeted
Inspector-General Crowninshield, only a year or so older than himself,
but already in charge of a Division.

"Keen-looking bunch, Crown. Lot of different outfits--volunteers for
special duty from the whole Tellurian force?"

"Yes. Everybody wanted to go, and there threatened to be trouble over
the selection, so we picked the highest ratings from the whole Service.
If there ever was such a thing as a picked force, we shall have it
with us."

"What d'you mean, 'us'? You aren't going, are you?"

"Try to keep me from it! The names of all five of us I-G's were put in
a hat, and I was lucky."

"Well, you may come in handy, at that," Brandon conceded. "And here's
the big boss himself. Hi, Chief!"

"Ho, Brandon! Ho, Westfall!" Newton, Chairman of the Board of Directors
of the IPC, shook hands with the two scientists. "Your Martians and
Venerians are in Lounge Fifteen. I suppose that you have a lot of things
to thrash out, so you may as well start now. Everything is being
attended to--I'll take charge now."

"You going along, too?" asked Brandon.

"Going along, _too_? I'm _running_ this cruise!" Newton declared. "I may
take advice from you on some things and from Crowninshield on others,
but I am in charge!"

"All x--it's a relief, at that," and Brandon and Westfall went to join
their fellow-scientists in the designated room of the space-cruiser.

* * * * *

What a contrast was there as the representatives of three worlds
met! All six men were of the same original stock or of a similar
evolution--science has not, even yet, decided the question definitely.
Their minds were very much alike, but their respective environments had
so variantly developed their bodily structures that to outward seeming
they had but little in common.

Through countless thousands of generations the Martians had become
acclimated to a planet having little air, less water, and characterized
by abrupt transitions from searing heat to bitter cold: from
blinding light to almost impenetrable darkness. Eight feet tall
and correspondingly massive, they could barely stand against the