ed before that there are one or two, or
perhaps even three men who are better chemists than I am. I gathered
that it is something like a polyhydric alcohol and something like a
substituted hydrocarbon, and yet different from either in that it
contains flourin in loose combination. I think it is something that our
Tellurian chemists haven't got yet; but they've got so many organic
compounds now that they may have synthesized it, at that. You see,
Titan's atmosphere isn't nearly as dense as ours, but what there is
of it is pure dynamite. Ours is a little oxygen, mixed with a lot of
inert ingredients. Theirs is oxygen, heavily laced with flourin. It's
_reactive_, no fooling! However, something pretty violent must be
necessary to carry on body reactions at such a temperature as theirs."

"Probably; but I know even less about that kind of thing than you do.
Funny, isn't it, the way he thinks 'water' when he means ice, and always
thinks of our real water as being molten?"

"Reasonable enough when you think about it. Temperature differences are
logarithmic, you know, not arithmetic--the effective difference between
his body temperature and ours is perhaps even greater than that between
ours and that of melted iron. We never think of iron as being a liquid,
you know."

"That's right, too. Well, good night, Steve dear."

"'Bye, little queen of space--see you at breakfast," and the _Forlorn
Hope_ became dark and silent.

* * * * *

Day after day the brilliant sphere flew toward distant Saturn, with the
wreckage of the _Forlorn Hope_ in tow. Piece by piece that wreckage was
brought together and held in place by the Titanian tractors; and slowly
but steadily, under Stevens' terrific welding projector, the stubborn
steel flowed together, once more to become a seamless, spaceworthy
structure. And Nadia, the electrician, followed close behind the welder.
Wielding torch, pliers and spanner with practised hand, she repaired or
cut out of circuit the damaged accumulator cells and reunited the ends
of each severed power lead. Understanding Nadia's work thoroughly, the
Titanians were not particularly interested in it; but whenever Stevens
made his way along an outside seam, he had a large and thrillingly
horrified gallery. Everyone who could possibly secure permission to
leave the sphere did so, each upon his own pencil of force, and went
over to watch the welder. They did not come close to him--to vent