“You’ll land with all the data we’ve got,” soothed the captain. “They’ve supplied a stack of stuff along with the orders.” He put a wad of papers on the table, also several maps and a number of large photographs. Then he pointed to a cabinet standing against a wall. “That’s the stereoscopic viewer. Use it to search these pics for a suitable landing place. The choice is wholly yours. My job is to put you down safely wherever you choose and get away undetected.”

“How long have I got?”

“You must show me the selected spot not later than forty hours from now.”

“And how long can you allow for dumping me and my equipment?”

“Twenty minutes maximum. Positively no more. I’m sorry about that but it can’t be helped. If we sit on the ground and take it easy we’ll leave unmistakable signs of our landing, a whacking big rut that can soon be spotted by air patrols and will get the hunt after you in full cry. So we’ll have to use the antigravs and move fast. The antigravs soak up power. Twenty minutes output is the most we can afford.”

“All right.” Mowry gave a shrug of resignation, took up the papers and started reading them as the captain went out.

Jaimec, ninety-fourth planet of the Sirian Empire. Mass seven-eighths that of Terra. Land area about half that of Terra’s, the rest being ocean. First settled two and a half centuries ago. Present population estimated at about eighty millions. Jaimec had cities, railroads, spaceports and all the other features of alien civilisation. Nevertheless, much of it remained undeveloped, unexplored and in primitive condition.

He spent a good many hours making close, meticulous study of the planet’s surface as shown in the stereoscopic viewer, meanwhile wondering how the big photos had been obtained. Evidently someone had taken a considerable risk to play close with an aerial camera. War had a hundred unsung heroes for every one praised and draped with medals.