"Didn't you know?" she asked, wide eyed. "We haven't had any contact with Mars all week. Two ships were scheduled to arrive from there, and haven't been heard from."
Art whistled softly. "Guess I've been missing quite a bit of news lately!"
"That's not all," Elene continued. "You know Denny was out on Venus with a crew. He sent in some kind of wire to Dr. Theller about discovering some ancient ruins, traces of a lost civilization, and saying that he was heading back. That was over a week ago—he was due in day before yesterday. I've tried repeatedly to contact him on the way, with no success. Dr. Theller certainly behaves strangely—I don't know—he—"
Art wasn't listening. He was thinking of Denny—the bronzed, hard-bitten space pilot, who had always represented to him all the glamour of the far flung outposts. And been just a darn good friend, too. The perils of Venus were many and varied—but on the other hand, he had the utmost confidence in Denny's ability to take care of his space ship and crew through almost any situation.
"Art, I'm beginning to have a dreadful feeling that somehow this is all tied in together," said Elene hesitantly. "I've been wanting to talk it over with you for ever so long. This plague of subterranean monsters—communications with Mars cut off—Denny out there somewhere, cut off, too—"
"Perhaps there's not so much cause for concern over Denny," Art put in soothingly. "After all, any sort of trivial accident might have occurred which would delay him this long."
"Yes, Art, but I feel that even though the creatures don't seem to have much intelligence, there is some kind of horrible plan behind the whole thing, and that the stopping of traffic with the other planets is part of that plan."
"That is quite a theory, Elene, my dear," came a patronizing voice from behind, "but it's quite possible that I and my colleagues may be able to work out a solution without the aid of my secretary." Dr. Theller had entered the room unnoticed. Elene flushed, and was on the verge of making an equally caustic retort, but bit back the words.
"As far as Denny is concerned," the doctor went on, "he has been going out there for a good many years now; unless I miss my guess, the space madness is creeping in on his brain. That story of finding remains of a lost civilization—that's really pretty steep, you know. It's well known that the evolution of fauna on Venus has not, and will not, progress to the point of producing reasoning, speaking beings for millions of years."