to retain their
balance. Tucked up in a blanket in Gillian Murray's arms, Jason Tarsh
bawled hungrily. Higher and higher they climbed, the only living
creatures in a purple world, striving toward their goal. Curtis Delman,
hampered by the weight of the recording machine, kept urging her to keep
up with him. Suddenly, she stopped.

"Don't want to play," she said. "I'm tired." She sat down on the hot
metal of the ramp, placing the baby beside her.

He let her rest for a few minutes, then tried to coax her to carry on.
"You're a sissy," he said. "You're afraid!"

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm not a sissy," she cried. "I'm not! I'm
not! I'm _not_!"

Delman turned and continued climbing purposefully. "Gillian's a sissy!
Gillian's a sissy!" he chanted over and over again.

Panting with weariness and indignation, she struggled after him.

They had covered more than half the distance before he looked back. He
saw her following and prepared to go on again. Then he realized
something was wrong and swung around, startled. Her hands were empty!

"Where's Jason?" he cried out.

* * * * *

She was too exhausted to reply and stared at him blankly. Putting down
the recording machine, he ran past her. Some twenty yards away, the
bundle of blanket that was Jason Tarsh began to roll gently down the
slope.

[Illustration]

He raced after it, his swift young legs moving as easily and painlessly
as pistons. He reached the bundle just before the change in gradient
which marked the first half of the ramp. Horrified, he increased his
speed. Propelled by the sharp incline, the bundle branched off at a
tangent. He caught it just as it was about to plunge over the side. When
he picked up the blanket, it was curiously light.

There was nothing inside it.

Very slowly, he clambered back up the slope.

As he came level with Gillian, he put his arm around her shoulders.
"Don't worry," he said. "Jason was too small to play." Taking her by the
hand, he led her to the short, vertical ladder which led into the
lifeboat.

After the harsh glare of the sun, the cabin seemed dark and strange.
What light there was was filtered through six small port-holes--three on
either side--in which the glass was tinted a deep blue.

It took him nearly ten minutes to strap Gillian into the safety harness,
and by the time he had adjusted his own, she was asleep. He stretched
out his right hand and switched on the reco