ive by radiation. Since the atomic wars, the
increased radioactivity of the earth undoubtedly stimulates mitosis of
the malignant cells. It feeds the disease, and kills the man. But on a
planet like Almazin III where the radiation index is close to zero, the
mitosis of the sarcoma cells stops abruptly, virus or no virus."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Alan. "I've read some of your papers on
the subject, and the evidence sounds pretty convincing."

"It's conclusive. If you arrive in time you've nothing to worry about.
I've seen men as badly off as you, with malignant growths well advanced,
who migrated to Almazin III and recovered within a year. Without
radioactivity to maintain it, the disease seems to be arrested
immediately, and if the tissue damage has not gone too far, the tumor
regresses and eventually disappears. Once you're cured, you can come
back to earth and take up your work where you left off. Well, let's
check you over."

The examination was brief. Dr. Willoughby initialed the passport, and
offered his hand.

"You should stand the trip all right. But I'm glad you didn't put it off
any longer than you did. Another two months of earth's emanations, and
I'm afraid I couldn't have certified you. It's lucky for you that the
_Star Lord_ is the fastest ship in space. That's all, Dr. Chase. I'll be
seeing you on board."

In the swiftly moving elevator cage Alan ascended the slender pylon to
the boarding platform, crowded by a group of quarreling children in
charge of an indifferent nursemaid.

The Chief Steward, rustling in starched whites, stepped forward at the
port, clicked his heels, and curved his thin lips into a smile.

"How do you do, sir. The Star Line wishes you a happy voyage. Will you
be kind enough to choose?"

Following his nod, Alan looked down at the silver tray extended for his
inspection, and then stepped back as a heavy perfume assaulted his
nostrils.

"What are those?"

"Carnations, sir, for the gentlemen's coats, and rose corsages for the
ladies' gowns. Compliments of the Star Line."

"But they're white!"

"Yes, sir. The white flowers, the only kind we are able to grow in
Y-port, are symbols of the white light of the stars, we like to think."

"What idiot gave the Star Line that idea?" said Dr. Chase. "You know
stars are all colors--white, green, yellow, blue, and even red. But
white carnations are a symbol of death."

Steward Davis lowered his tray. "Then you don't care to w