. Their
job done, they were killed and eaten. Last meal, perhaps."

"I'm afraid so. Whatever they were, they had hands and brains. Just
_look_ at those shops and machines!"

"What do we do, boss?" James asked. "Run a search pattern first?"

"We'll have to, I guess, before we can lay the job out."

It was run and Garlock frowned in thought. "Almost half the moon
covered--honeycombed. We'll have to fine-tooth it. Around the periphery
first, then spiral into the center. This moon isn't very big, but even
so this is going to be a hell of a long job. Any suggestions, anybody?
Jim?"

"The only way, I guess. You can't do it hit-or-miss. I'm _damn_ glad
we've got plenty of stuff in our Op field and plenty of hydride for the
engines. The horses will all know they've been at work before they get
the field filled up again."

"So will you, Junior, believe me.... Ready, all? Start blasting."

Then, for three hours, the _Pleiades_ moved slowly--for her--along a
plotted and automatically-controlled course. It was very easy to tell
where she had been; the sharply-cut, evenly-spaced, symmetrical pits
left by the Galaxian's full-conversion blasts were entirely different
from the irregularly-cratered, ages-old original surface.

"Knock off, Brownie," Garlock said then. "Go eat all you can hold and
get some sleep. Come back in three hours. Jim, cut our speed to
seventy-five percent."

Lola shed her scanner, heaved a tremendous sigh of relief, and
disappeared.

Three silent hours later--all three were too intensely busy to think of
anything except the work in hand--Lola came back.

"Take Belle's swath, Brownie. Okay, Belle, you can lay off. Three
hours."

"I'll stay," Belle declared. "Go yourself; or send Jim."

"Don't be any more of a damn fool than you have to. I said beat it."

"And I said I wouldn't. I'm just as good...."

"Chop it off!" Garlock snapped. "It isn't a case of being just as good
as. It's a matter of physical reserves. Jim and I have more to draw on
for the long shifts than you have. So get the hell out of here or I'll
stop the ship and slap you even sillier than you are now."

Belle threw up her head, tossing her shoulder-length green mop in her
characteristic gesture of defiance; but after holding Garlock's hard
stare for a moment she relaxed and smiled.

"Okay, Clee--and thanks for the kind words."

She disappeared and the work went on.

And finally, when all four were so groggy that they could sc