The leader of the expedition nodded. "Yep. Once we talk to these Azurans, I think we can convince them we all have a common enemy. An enemy who seems to enjoy smashing things just for fun. I have a hunch the Azurans expect the Invaders back, too ... that might account for their apparent determination to remain hidden." He reached for the log. "Incidentally, what's the latest on the damage situation?"

Stuart shook his head unhappily and brushed hair out of his eyes. "One cephaloid is completely ruined. It was the one I had trained to translate into Universal Speech from whatever other language would be fed into it later. I was going to teach it what Azuran I could pick up and use it as a direct interpreter. We have to use Universal Speech, you see, because cephaloids simply can't handle homonyms such as 'see' and 'sea,' or 'threw' and 'through.' However," his worried look lessened, "the multiple analyzer is all right. And the stand-by, originally conditioned only for generalized language response, has been retrained in Universal Speech and will learn Azuran from the analyzer."

He managed a feeble smile. "After all, the natives are manlike, and we know they had a city culture much like ours, so there is a good possibility of our finding mutually intelligible symbols. And we know what their language sounds like, thanks to the trader who got away with a recording."

White spoke up. "I hope you weren't counting too much on the portable teleview, Mr. Stuart. It's a total loss. So is the long-range microphone. It's going to be tough to study their language at a distance." He looked at Gordon. "The ship is okay, chief, except for the debris we're still cutting away. All the animals are dead; I guess you knew that. And all we've salvaged from the jeep is the power unit and one repulsor. We'll have to walk where we can't use the scout ship."

Brettner, when the captain looked at him, said quietly: "We're awful low on food. Just about enough to get us back, with three or four days to spare. Can't we eat any of this Azuran stuff?"

Gordon shook his head. "The water and air are all right, but there's no food for us down there. Good thing, in a way."

He laughed at the surprised expressions. "All Terrestrial life is based on complexes of iron, magnesium, or copper, but Azuran life seems to be built on cobalt complexes. Consequently both sides are immune to the diseases of the other. You remember the terrible plagues that hit the Terrestrial port areas in the old days, and the grim effects of our landings on Alpha Centauri III and Proxima II. But the biostat labs report that Terrestrial and Azuran tissue cultures have only a toxic effect on each other ... no parasitic viability whatever."

He looked up at the chronometer. "About time to begin our spiral, if we're to land before daybreak in that area we picked out. Let's get some sleep. White, you'll relieve me for a couple of hours, soon as we've established our trajectory."

Stuart, on the way out, picked up the sheaf of papers summarizing what was known about Azura. He strapped into his bunk absent-mindedly and lay there trying to visualize his first non-solar planet. Many kinds of intelligent animals, the reports agreed. Evidently a mutation leading to intelligence had occurred quite early in the diversification of the animal phyla.