initesimal gravity brought him down.

"Huh!" said the Chief wrathfully. "How's Haney and Mike making out?"

Almost on the instant, twenty yards away, a tiny airlock door thrust out
from the surface of glittering metal, and helmet and antenna appeared.

"You guys can come in now," said Haney's voice in Joe's headphones.
"It's all okay. Mike's pumping out the other locks too, so you can come
in at any of 'em."

The space-suited figures clumped loudly to airlock doors. There were a
dozen or more small airlocks in various parts of the hull, besides the
great door to admit supply ships. The Chief growled and moved toward
Sanford now raging like the madman his helplessness made him.

"No," said Joe shortly. "He'd fight again. Go inside. That's an order,
Chief."

The Chief grunted and obeyed. Joe went to the nearest airlock and
entered the great steel hull.

Sanford floated in emptiness, two yards from the Space Platform he would
have turned into a derelict. He did not move farther away. He did not
fall toward it. There was nobody to listen to him. He cried out in
blood-curdling fury because other men were smarter than he was. Other
men had solved problems he could not solve. Other men were his
superiors. He screamed his rage.

Presently the Platform revolved slowly beneath him. It was turned, of
course, by the monster gyros which in turn were controlled by the pilot
gyros Joe and Haney and the Chief and Mike had repaired when saboteurs
smashed them.

The Platform rotated sedately. A great gap appeared in it. The door of
the supply ship lock moved until Sanford, floating helplessly, was
opposite its mouth.

A rod with a rounded object at its end appeared past the docked supply
ship. It reached out and touched Sanford's helmet. It was the magnetic
grapple which drew space ships into their dock.

It drew Sanford, squirming and streaming, into the great lock. The outer
doors closed. Before air was admitted to the inside, Sanford went
suddenly still.

When they took him out of his suit he was apparently unconscious. He
could not be roused. Freed, he drew his knees up to his chin in the
position in which primitive peoples bury their dead. He seemed to sleep.
Brent examined him carefully.

"Catatonia," he said distastefully. "He spent his life thinking he was
smarter than anybody else--smarter, probably, than all the universe. He
believed it. He couldn't face the fact that he was wrong. He couldn't
stay conscious an