geiger counters.

"We volunteered to come to Mars," Val said irrelevantly.

"Ah--two young heroes," Ledman said acidly. "How sad. I could almost
feel sorry for you. Almost."

"Just what is it you're after?" I said, stalling, stalling.

"Atomics cost me my legs," he said. "You remember the Sadlerville
Blast?" he asked.

"Of course." And I did, too. I'd never forget it. No one would. How
could I forget that great accident--killing hundreds, injuring thousands
more, sterilizing forty miles of Mississippi land--when the Sadlerville
pile went up?

"I was there on business at the time," Ledman said. "I represented
Ledman Atomics. I was there to sign a new contract for my company. You
know who I am, now?"

I nodded.

"I was fairly well shielded when it happened. I never got the contract,
but I got a good dose of radiation instead. Not enough to kill me," he
said. "Just enough to necessitate the removal of--" he indicated the
empty space at his thighs. "So I got off lightly." He gestured at the
wheelchair blanket.

I still didn't understand. "But why kill us Geigs? _We_ had nothing to
do with it."

"You're just in this by accident," he said. "You see, after the
explosion and the amputation, my fellow-members on the board of Ledman
Atomics decided that a semi-basket case like myself was a poor risk as
Head of the Board, and they took my company away. All quite legal, I
assure you. They left me almost a pauper!" Then he snapped the punchline
at me.

"They renamed Ledman Atomics. Who did you say you worked for?"

I began, "Uran--"

"Don't bother. A more inventive title than Ledman Atomics, but not
quite as much heart, wouldn't you say?" He grinned. "I saved for years;
then I came to Mars, lost myself, built this Dome, and swore to get
even. There's not a great deal of uranium on this planet, but enough to
keep me in a style to which, unfortunately, I'm no longer accustomed."

* * * * *

He consulted his wrist watch. "Time for my injection." He pulled out the
tanglegun and sprayed us again, just to make doubly certain. "That's
another little souvenir of Sadlerville. I'm short on red blood
corpuscles."

He rolled over to a wall table and fumbled in a container among a pile
of hypodermics. "There are other injections, too. Adrenalin, insulin.
Others. The Blast turned me into a walking pin-cushion. But I'll pay it
all back," he said. He plunged the needle into his arm.

My eyes wi