with
every projector delivering its maximum blast.

As the scene of the disaster was approached there was revealed upon the
plates a confused mass of debris; a mass whose individual units were
apparently moving at random, yet which was as a whole still following
the orbit of Roger's planetoid. Space was full of machine parts,
structural members, furniture, flotsam of all kinds; and everywhere were
the bodies of men. Some were encased in space-suits, and it was to these
that the rescuers turned first--space-hardened veterans though the men
of the _Chicago_ were, they did not care even to look at the others.
Strangely enough, however, not one of the floating figures spoke or
moved, and space-line men were hurriedly sent out to investigate.

"All dead." Quickly the dread report came back. "Been dead a long time.
The armor is all stripped off the suits, and all the generators and
other apparatus are all shot. Something funny about it, too--none of
them seem to have been touched, but the machinery of the suits seems to
be about half missing."

"I've got it all on the reels, sir." Cleveland, his close-up survey of
the wreckage finished, turned to the captain. "What they've just
reported checks up with what I have photographed everywhere. I've got an
idea of what might have happened, but it's so new that I'll have to have
some evidence before I'll believe it myself. You might have them bring
in a few of the armored bodies, a couple of those switchboards and
panels floating around out there, and half a dozen miscellaneous pieces
of junk--the nearest things they get hold of, whatever they happen to
be."

"Then back to Tellus at maximum?"

"Right--back to Tellus, as fast as we can possibly get there."

While the _Chicago_ hurtled through space at full power, Cleveland and
the ranking officers of the vessel grouped themselves about the salvaged
wreckage. Familiar with space-wrecks as were they all, none of them had
ever seen anything like the material before them. For every part and
instrument was weirdly and meaninglessly disintegrated. There were no
breaks, no marks of violence, and yet nothing was intact. Bolt-holes
stared empty, cores, shielding cases and needles had disappeared, the
vital parts of every instrument hung awry, disorganization reigned
rampant and supreme.

"I never imagined such a mess," the captain said, after a long and
silent study of the objects. "If you have a theory to cover _that_,
Cleveland, I w