ght on his face but he kept his eyes
tightly closed. The light moved away, but he could tell that it was
still burning.

"It's Connel, I think," said a high-pitched voice directly over them.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I met him once in Atom City at a scientific meeting. He
was making a speech with a Professor Sykes."

"That's right," said Connel, hearing the remark. "I was there."

"Do you remember meeting a man from Venus wearing a long red robe?"
asked the high-pitched voice.

Connel hesitated. "No," he said. "I only remember talking to three men.
Two were from Venus and one was from Mars. But neither of the two from
Venus wore a red robe. They wore purple--"

"He's right," acknowledged the voice. "This is Connel."

"Open your eyes," said the first voice.

Connel and Tom opened their eyes and in the light of a small hand torch
they saw two gaunt faces before them. The tallest of the men stuck out a
bony hand. "My name is Carson." They recognized his voice as the one
that had spoken first. "And this is Bill Jensen," he added.

"This is Tom Corbett, Space Cadet," said Connel. He glanced around the
room, and in the weak reflected light of the torch, saw almost fifty men
crouched against the walls, each of them holding a crude weapon.

"You'll understand our caution, Major," said Carson. "Once before we had
a plan to escape and a spy was sent in. As you see, we didn't escape."

"Neither did the spy," commented Jensen grimly.

"How long have you been here?" asked Connel.

"The oldest prisoner has been here for three years," replied Carson. And
as the other men began to gather around them, Connel and Tom saw that
they were hardly more than walking skeletons. Their cheeks were hollow,
eyes sunk in their sockets, and they wore little more than rags.

"And there's no way to escape?" asked Tom.

"Three guards with blasters are stationed on the other side of that
door," said Carson. "There is no other entrance or exit. We tried a
tunnel, but it caved in and after that they put in a wooden floor." He
stamped on it. "Teak. Hard as steel. We couldn't cut through."

"But why are you being held prisoners?" asked Connel.

"All of us joined the Nationalists believing it was just a sort of
good-neighbor club, where we could get together and exchange ideas for
our own improvement. And when we found out what Lactu and the Division
Chiefs were really up to, we tried to quit. As you see, we couldn't. We
knew too mu