Laughter gurgled in the man's throat. "So you found her, eh? Can you imagine that?" He reached out and took West by the arm. "Maybe we'll have a lot to talk about," he said. "We'll have to compare our notes." Together they moved up the hillside, the man's gloved hand clutching West by the arm. "You're Langdon," West hazarded, as casually as he could speak. The man chuckled. "Not Langdon. Langdon got lost." "That's tough," commented West. "Bad place to get lost on ... Pluto." "Not Pluto," said the man. "Somewhere else." "Maybe Darling, then ..." and he held his breath to hear the answer. "Darling left us," said the man. "I'm Cartwright. Burton Cartwright." On the top of the tiny plateau in front of the laboratory, they stopped to catch their breath. The dim starlight painted the valley below with silver tracery. West pointed. "That ship!" Cartwright chuckled. "You recognize it, eh? The Alpha Centauri." "They're still working on the drive, back on Earth," said West. "Someday they'll get it." "I have no doubt of it," said Cartwright. He swung back toward the laboratory. "Let's go in. Dinner will be ready soon." The table was set with white cloth and shining silver that gleamed in the light of the flickering dinner tapers. Sparkling wine glasses stood in their proper places. The centerpiece was a bowl of fruit—but fruit such as West had never seen before. Cartwright tilted a chair and dumped a thing that had been sleeping there onto the floor. "Your place, Mr. West," he said. The thing uncoiled itself and glared at West with an eye