pet was so hungry)!
Bert Andrews was sulkily insisting that it was nonsense to leave the warmth and security of the skiff anyway, and he wished he had a drink, while the harassed, self-appointed commander of the refugee corps was shouting at whomever happened, at any given moment, to capture his divided and completely frantic attention. His orders were masterpieces of confusion, developing around one premise that the castaway crew should immediately set up a camp. Where, how, or with what nonexistent equipment, Breadon did not venture to say.
“You see what I mean?” demanded Sparks disgustedly.
* * * *
Greg Malcolm saw. He also saw other things. That their landing-spot, while excellent for its purpose, was not by any manner of means an ideal campsite. It was a small, flat basin of sandy soil, rimmed by shallow mountains. His gaze sought these hills, looked approvingly on their greenness, upon the multitude of dark pock-marks dotting them. These caves, were they not the habitations of potential enemies, might well become the sanctuaries of spacewrecked men.
He saw, also, a thin ribbon of silver sheering the face of the northern hills. His gaze, rising still skyward, saw other things—
He nodded. He knew, now, where they were. Or approximately. There was but one planet in the solar system which boasted such a phenomenon. The apparent distance of the Sun, judged by its diminished disc, argued his judgment to be correct. The fact that they had surged through an atmospheric belt for some length of time before finally meeting with disaster.
“Titan,” he said. “Hyperion possibly. But probably Titan.”
Sparks’ gaze, following Greg’s upward, contracted in an expression of dismay.
“Dirty cow! You mean that’s where we are?”
“I believe so. There’s Saturn, our mother planet, looming above us as large as a dinner plate. And the grav-drag here is almost Earth norm. Titan has a 3,000 mile diameter. That, combined with the Saturnian tractile constant, would give us a strong pull.”
Sparks wailed, “But Titan! Great morning, Malcolm, nobody ever comes to Titan! There ain’t no mines here, no colonies, no—” He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening yet farther. “And, hey—this place is dangerous! There are—”
“I know it,” said Greg swiftly, quietly. “Shut up, Sparks. No use telling the others. If they don’t guess it themselves, what they don’t know won’t alarm them. We’ve got to do something, though. Get ourselves organized into a defensive community. That’s the only way—”
Ralph Breadon’s sharp, dictatorial voice interrupted him. “Well, Malcolm, stop soldiering and make yourself useful!”
And J. Foster, not to have his authority usurped, supplemented the order. “Yes, Malcolm, let’s get going! No time for day-dreaming, my man. We want action!”
Sparks said, “Maybe you’ll get it now, fatty!” under his breath, and looked at Malcolm hopefully. But his companion merely nodded, moved forward toward the others, quietly obedient to the command.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Hannigan groaned and followed him.
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