"No fuel," repeated Grouth, his voice like a dirge.
"There are radioactive elements in this asteroid," argued Wilding. "Can't they be used?"
Concor shook his head grimly. "They are here, true. But they are useless to power an atomic converter for the lighter. For two good reasons. We can't lay hands on them, literally. Without any shielding, we would be burned like moths in a flame, and the danger of the Pit Men is too great even if we dared invade their caverns. The Pit Men used to be harmless and friendly, but they aren't now. Some of the convicts found out they were good eating, organized hunts and stuffed themselves on Pit Men. Nowadays, we rarely see a Pit Man. They slink about in the caverns like shadows. And they wage a relentless guerilla warfare. Any convict they catch alone is a dead convict. They rush him and overwhelm him. Probably they eat him or use him to fertilize their nursery beds."
"I could talk to them and make a deal," said Wilding.
Every convict in hearing laughed harshly.
"Try it," suggested Amyth acidly. "Their arms are less brittle than mine."
"And while you're at it," went on Concor, "ask them to mine and process it for us. They're immune to radiation burns. In fact, they seem to thrive on rays that are deadly to us. We've never dared invade the lower caverns because of the radiation, which makes their homes an impregnable fortress for the Pit Men."
Wilding nodded quickly, understanding.
"Could I go there and talk with them?" he demanded.