Cap Hanson's jaw dropped like a wildcat stock in a bear market.
"Well, I'll be!" he choked. "Now what?"
But Biggs had been studying the sky. Now he frowned.
"Night," he said.
"Eh?"
"Night," repeated Lanse, "or what passes for night on this peculiar little satellite. You see, Themis doesn't revolve on its axis, therefore it has no night or daytime as we on Earth know those periods. And, of course, since it travels about its primary so swiftly, and since Saturn itself emits so strong a gegenschein, occultation by the mother planet doesn't create perfect darkness.
"But Themis' invisible little companion swings about Themis. And whenever it comes between this world and the Sun a dark period ensues. I should judge we are about to experience one right now. Yes—see? It is beginning to get dark."
"You mean," stormed Hanson, "everything's called off on account of darkness? The pact ain't goin' to be signed?"
"Apparently not," admitted Lanse ruefully. "Almost all aboriginal races have a deep dread of darkness, you know. Well—"
He shrugged—"there's no sense in our waiting out here until the 'night' period ends. We might as well go back to the ship and be comfortable."