it must be the planet.

Several hours later he was circling Pluto, searching grimly for the landmarks. A coating of frozen air covered everything—Pluto's last snow. Luck was with him, for he had only half-circled the globe when he saw what he wanted. There was no mistaking the scene. His pulse leaped as he dived inexpertly down.

Down past the snow sheathed peaks, into a great snow filled valley. He leveled off over the plain and brought his vessel to the surface in the thin solar illumination. He didn't know that landing on an airless planet was a feat for an expert pilot; neither did he realize that he was landing with blazing rocket jets on frozen air. But the luck of beginners was with him. He plowed a mile through the icy crust and jolted to a stop.

In his wake vast masses of freshly vaporized air clouded the valley and started to freeze again. Barnard's eyebrows lifted when he looked out.

"A snowstorm," he marveled.

He glared at the mountain wall a hundred yards distant. There was a structure there, of human origin. A squat building from around which the snow had been cleared.

George Melvin's space suit was too short for him, but he worked into it. Over the boots he fitted snow shoes. There was no sign of life from the shack, so he went out the lock and started trudging the hundred yards.

Inside the space suit, his footsteps were distant crunchings—eerie misfits in this noiseless dead world! Still there was no indication of life from the building ahead. He noted that it was flush against the cliff wall. Was there a cave behind?

A sudden craving for neoin filled him. He cursed and went forward more grimly. If this was the source of the drug, he must destroy it.

The door was unlocked. He hesitated, then stepped inside cautiously. He glanced back once. The snow was still falling.

His light revealed a small room. It was bare, except for a few tins of food and some motor parts. He frowned, wondering. Had he stumbled onto an innocent government post?

There was a door leading back. Then his guess was right—this was a cave. He tried the door. It opened smoothly; and he followed his light in.

There was a corridor. He paused for a moment, an instinctive fear bringing cold goose pimples. Something was here—something 

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