the
departure of the _Viking_. In this warm weather the men wore only light
shorts and gayly colored shirts. The women wore the long dresses and
metal caps and thin gauze veils that were so popular that year. Around
the fringes of the airport stood the ramparts of New York's many tall
buildings, with the four hundred story bulk of the Federal Building a
giant metal finger against the midnight sky.

"When are we going to pull out, Chief?" Steve Brent asked.

"As soon as the ship from Mars gets in and Olga Stark can come aboard."

"Funny thing--I've never been able to like that gal!" Steve said. Gerry
smiled faintly.

"That puts you in the minority, from all reports. However--that's aside
from the point. She's the most capable Space-pilot in the whole fleet,
and we need her. What's she like personally?"

"Tall, dark, and beautiful--with a nasty tongue and the temper of a
fiend," Steve said. He yawned, and changed the subject. "Y'know--I've
just been wondering what really did happen to the _Stardust_!"

Gerry shrugged without replying. That was a question that was bound to
be in the minds of all members of this expedition, whether or not they
put it in words. Travel between Earth and Mars had been commonplace for
more than a generation now, but there had not yet been any communication
with Venus--that cloud-veiled planet whose orbit lay nearer the sun than
that of earth. Two years ago the exploring ship _Stardust_ had started
for Venus. She had simply vanished into the cold of outer space--and
never been heard from again.

* * * * *

Gerry Norton thought the _Viking_ would get through. Science had made
some advances in these past two years. His ship would carry better
rocket fuel than had the _Stardust_, and more efficient gravity plates.
The new duralite hull had the strength to withstand a terrific impact.
They would probably get through. If not--well--he had been taking
chances all his life. You didn't go into the Interplanetary Service at
all if you were afraid of danger.

"There comes the ship from Mars now!" Steve Brent said, suddenly
pointing upward.

A streak of fire like a shooting star had appeared in the sky far above.
It was the rocket blast of the incoming space liner. Yellow flames
played about her bow as she turned on the reverse rockets to reduce the
terrific speed. The roar of the discharge came down through the air like
a faint rumble of distant surf. Then the ro