fled, hearing the thud of racing feet and the roars of the Zonals rising in volume. They reached the castle—and Quade got the shock of his life.

“They try kill us, yes?” an unfamiliar voice said hoarsely.

Quade looked at Kathleen, then at Sherman. They, too, were staring. Again the voice repeated its question. Slowly Quade turned to meet the unblinking gaze of Speedy.

“This bad place,” the Zonal said. “Better go.”

“He talked,” Kathleen murmured unbelievingly. “He’s intelligent, Tony!”

“Intelligent,” Speedy repeated. “Yes. Your language hard. But Earth man Udell taught us some words. Speak.”

Quade swallowed.

“Yeah. You speak, all right. But how? Have you been playing dumb all along?”

Speedy looked puzzled.

“Earth man Udell stick us with needle.”

“That’s it,” Quade said abruptly. “So that was Udell’s trick!” He glanced around. “We can’t get out. Our ship’s wrecked. Understand?”

Speedy nodded.

“Understand. I get help.”

“You know where the camp is?”

“I know. I go there now. Tell men—bring them here. Yes.”

He rocketed up and was gone. His sleek figure was visible swooping toward the ice barrier. Then he had crossed it and vanished.

“Let’s go inside,” Quade said. “I’d hate it if the Zonals ate us before Wolfe got here.”

Inside the castle Quade divided the javelins and passed them around.

“One mystery’s solved,” he said. “There won’t be any trouble in filming Sons of Titan now. The Zonals are intelligent—but it takes a shot of neo-curare to make ’em that way.”

“A poison?” Kathleen asked. “Spill it, Tony.”

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