unless
Bellaver practically tripled his offer--and of course Bellaver didn't
dare do that. A price so much out of line even for Titanite would have
stirred all the rival shipbuilders to unwelcome curiosity. So, we
figured, Bellaver had had him killed."

"But what happened to the Titanite?"

"That," said Shearing, "is what nobody knows. Bellaver must have figured
that if his tame Lazarites couldn't find where MacDonald had put it, we
couldn't either. He was right. With all our combined mental probes and
conventional detectors we haven't been able to track it down. And we
haven't been able to find any more pockets, either. Bellaver Corporation
got exclusive mineral rights to the whole damned moon. They even own the
refinery now."

Hyrst shook his head. "Latent impressions or not, I don't see how I can
help on that. If MacDonald had given the killer any clue--"

* * * * *

A beam of bright blue light no thicker than a pencil struck in through
the mouth of the passage. It touched the side of the large stone block.
The stone turned molten and ran, and then the beam flicked off, leaving
a place that glowed briefly red. Shearing said, "I guess our ten minutes
are up."

They were. For a second or two nothing more happened and then Hyrst saw
something come sailing in through the crack. His mind told him what it
was just barely in time to shut his eyes. There was a flash that dazzled
him even through his closed lids, and the flash became a glare that did
not lessen. Bellaver's men had tossed in a long-term flare, and almost
at once someone followed it, in the hope of catching Hyrst and Shearing
blinded and off guard. The eyes of Hyrst's mind, unaffected by light,
clearly showed him the suited figure just below him, with its bubble
helmet covered by a glare-shield. They directed him with perfect
accuracy in the downward sweep of the lead weight he had taken from his
boot, and which he still held in his hand. The bubble helmet was very
strong, and the gravity very light, but the concussion was enough to
drop the man unconscious. Just about thought Hyrst, what happened to me
there in the hoist tower, when MacDonald died. Shearing, who had by now
adjusted his own glare-shield stooped quickly and took the man's gun.

He said aloud, over the helmet communicator, "The next one that steps
through here gets it. Do you hear that, Bellaver?"

Bellaver's voice answered. "Listen, Shearing, I was wrong.