A VOICE roared, "All clear! Lower away!" The great ship rocked and quivered as its jet rockets flared, forming a solid, cushioning pillar on which the Spica lowered itself to the land cradle on Long Island Spaceport.

"Tub!" muttered Flick Muldoon, and made a hasty grab for a case of equipment slithering across the deck.

Gary Lane snapped, "Careful, Flick!"... which was not like Lane. It was not his nature to be brusque. But now his voice, like his manner, was strained and unnatural. His eyes were tense as he glanced at his wrist chronometer. He sighed with relief as the wallowing motion of the space-cruiser ended in a final, weary, convulsive heave.

Blue uniformed attendants, luggage laden, brushed by the pair of young scientists. Commands clacked with metallic authority from the brazen throats of deck audiophones. Locks wheezed asthmatically, and the warm, sweet fragrance of Earth air flooded through a nearby port.

Flick drew a deep, contented breath.

"Home again! Oh, boy! Linen suits instead of those damn bulgers... sandals instead of lead boots... breathable air instead of oxygen..."

"... and," reminded Gary grimly, "a job of work to be done. Let's get going."

His precious portfolio securely gripped in a bronzed fist, he strode to the gangway, stood there blinking momentarily in the pleasant sunlight of Earth. Then a warm hand was on his shoulder, and a friendly voice greeted him. The voice of his superior, Dr. Wade Bryant.

"Welcome home, Gary! Have a good trip? Got lots of good shots, I hope--?"

"I got," said Gary, "plenty! Dr. Bryant, we must go to the Observatory at once. If I'm not greatly mistaken, our expedition discovered something which will tear to bits every previous cosmological theory known to science. Wait till--" He stopped abruptly, silenced by the unexpected presence of a white-haired, cherubic little stranger beside his senior. "I -- er -- I don't believe I've had the pleasure--?"

"No," chuckled Bryant, "But we'll soon remedy that. Professor Anjers, permit me to introduce my brilliant and indispensable young aide, Dr. Gary Lane. Gary, you've heard of Dr. Anjers, of course?"

"Of course," replied Gary respectfully. "How do you do, sir?" But his mood had changed. His eagerness was gone; he seemed almost to wish to avoid further discussion. Bryant sensed this. He looked puzzled.

"Well, Gary? Go on. You were saying--?"

"Later," said Gary briefly. He stared absently over the older man's shoulder. "Your car here?"

Flick Muldoon snorted from behind him. "Car? We need a truck! Hey, Doc -- look at me! The human derrick. Gary's so doggone busy guarding that briefcase he won't give me a hand with--" His eyes rolled in mock horror of the pyramid of equipment heaped about him.

Dr. Bryant laughed. "You'll survive, Flick, I fear. Yes, the car's right over here. If you're ready now--"

He led the way. They had moved but a few paces from the cradles when someone stepped beside Gary, murmured a polite, "Shall I take your portfolio, Dr. Lane?" and started to relieve young Lane of it.

Gary started violently, jerked his hand loose. "Let go, damn you!" he blazed... then his eyes widened, and a flush surged upward to copper his already tanned cheeks. "Oh, I... I beg your pardon, miss! I had no idea... I mean... I..."

For he was staring squarely into the most hurt, most baffled, yet withal most beautiful mist-blue eyes he had ever seen. And the eyes were but one facet of this girl's gemlike perfection. She was incredible, as all dreams sprung to life are incredible. For surely such smooth-gleaming copper hair, such lips and teeth and -- well, everything about her! -- could exist nowhere other than in a dream.

But if she were a vision she was not his alone. For Dr. Bryant spoke apologetically. "Gary, this is Miss Powell, a new addition to our staff. She's to be your personal aide. Nora... Dr. Lane."

"I'm sure," said Nora Powell icily, "it will be a great pleasure to work with Dr. Lane." She turned to Muldoon. "If I can help you with your instruments--?"

Flick started at her, goggle-eyed. "H-h-help, sugar! You just stand there and look at me; that's help enough! For you I could lift mountains!"

He proceeded to prove it, stumbling forward under a pack-mule load.