The Primus Curse
they've been taken out."

The voice prattled on and Grimes tried to relax while listening, but he found himself tensing with the beginning of each sentence.

"I feel a little woozy," Manson said all of a sudden. "It's just the light gravity, I know. I've been on Mars--it's the same sensation."

"Nevertheless, get out of that building immediately," Grimes shouted.

The engineer's figure appeared at once on the TV screen and Grimes breathed a sigh of relief. Just the same he reassured himself with a pair of binoculars that Manson was all right, as though he didn't trust the electronic image.

"How do you feel?" he asked anxiously.

"Not so good. I never really got used to walking on Mars, and I was there a dozen times or more. I never stopped taking the Uneasy pills, though I got so I used to bite 'em in half and take ... just ... a ... part...."

"What's the matter with you?" Grimes yelled, though he could see readily enough what was the matter. The boy was doubled over in pain. His lips moved frantically in an effort to talk, but no sound came out. He tried to straighten once but a new attack seized him and he half fell to the ground. His screams of pain filled the spaceship until Grimes could stand it no longer.

"Get down there quick," he commanded the pilot. "And shut off that speaker," he hollered at the radio operator.

Now what was he doing? Risking the entire ship and crew. And for what? To try to save one man? He knew better. That would have been his reason in the old days--now he wasn't thinking of the man. He was thinking of results. He had to know what was happening. One thing kept hammering in his brain. His mission. He had a mission, and it was more important than one man or a whole crew of men.

The big ship moved silently and rapidly to the other end of the runway. Grimes had the exit port open by the time they stopped beside the twisting body of the engineer. He grabbed the medium sized figure under the armpits and pulled his head and shoulders up inside the ship. Dr. Johnson gave a hand and they soon had Manson laid out on the floor of the pilot's room. A hypodermic appeared almost magically in the doctor's hand.

"There's nothing left to do," he said to the excited captain.


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