ood and dopey with a tranquilizer..."

They aroused Dave Lester and Helen Rodan, helped them armor up,
explained briefly what the situation was, stuffed Xavier Rodan into his
Archer, and climbed with him into the sealable cab of the tractor. Here
they could all remove their helmets.

After several hours of bumping over rugged country, with the tractor's
headlights blazing through the star-topped blackness, they reached a
solid trail over a mare. Then they could zip along, almost like on a
highway. There were other rough stretches, but most of the well selected
route was smooth. Half the time, Nelsen drove, while Gimp rested or
slept. They ate spaceman's gruel, heated on a little electric stove. And
after a certain number of hours, they climbed over the side of the Moon,
and made their own sunrise. After that, the going seemed easier.

Gimp and Frank were just about talked out, by then. Helen Rodan looked
after her slumbering father. Otherwise, she and Lester seemed wrapped up
in each other. Frank hardly listened to the few words they exchanged.
They kept peering eagerly and worriedly along the trail, that wound
past fantastic scenery.

Nelsen was eager and tense, himself. Serene, he was thinking with
gratitude. Back to some of civilization. Back to freedom--if there
wasn't too much trouble on account of all that had happened. Speeding
along, they passed the first scattered domes, a hydroponic garden, an
isolated sun-power plant.

It was another hour before they reached the checking-gate of one of the
main airlocks. Frank Nelsen didn't try any tricks before the
white-armored international guards.

"There have been some difficulties," he said. "I think you will want all
of our names."

"I am Helen Rodan," Helen interrupted. "My father, Xavier Rodan, here,
is sick. He needs a hospital. I will stay with him. These are our
friends. They brought us all the way from Far Side."

Within the broad airlock compartment, Lester also got down from the
tractor. "I'll stay, too," he said. "Go ahead, Frank. You and Gimp have
had enough."

"A moment," gruffed one of the guards with a slight accent. "We shall
say who shall do what--passing this lock. Difficulties? Very well.
Names, and space-fitness cards, please, from everybody. And where you
will be staying, here in Serene..."

Gimp and Frank got permission to pass the lock after about fifteen
minutes. Without Helen and Les agreeing to stay, it might have been
tougher. They