"I could make a good guess," Blake said, grinning wryly.
"No, you couldn't," Devries said, so solemnly that Blake's grin vanished. "Commander Janus, I noticed you made a wide sweep away from Neptune. I'll bet you've had orders to stay clear of there. Am I right?"
Janus nodded affirmatively, startled.
"I thought so. And didn't you wonder why?"
"It's not for me to wonder," replied Janus. "There are standing orders that Neptune's utterly unfit, uninhabitable, no reason to land there."
Devries nodded grimly. "All right, and now I'll tell you something. Neptune's not uninhabitable. At least its moon is not, for these Proktols live there, and where they can live Earthmen can live. But spacemen usually give Neptune a wide beam, at least those who have heard the rumor. I first heard it in a spacerfront dive on Mars, a few years ago, from a drunken half-breed Martian. He and two companions had been inward-bound from Pluto. They set down on Neptune's moon for a rocket repair. The Proktols got them and hauled them off to their capitol-city. There, before a vast populace, they tortured two of the men horribly. The third Martian managed to escape to his ship, and made it back to Mars alone."
Blake was aghast. "These Proktols did that? These—these things that have got us now?"
"Yes," Devries nodded.
"But why?"
"I don't know. The Martian who told me this didn't seem to know himself."