“Please,” said the detective mildly. “The better you help the sooner we can finish this work. I take it you were acquainted with the man who actually put the box aboard the ship?”

“Sure. Everybody knew John Carter. Everybody knows everybody else on a satellite station.” The Earthman stuck out his jaw. “That’s why none of us’ll take scop. We won’t blab out all our thoughts to guys we see fifty times a day. We’d go nuts!”

“I never made such a request,” said Syaloch.

“Carter was quite a good friend of mine,” volunteered Hollyday.

“Uh-huh,” grunted Gregg. “And he quit too, about the same time you fellows did, and went Earthside and hasn’t been seen since. HQ told me you and he were thick. What’d you talk about?”

“The usual.” Hollyday shrugged. “Wine, women, and song. I haven’t heard from him since I left Earth.”

“Who says Carter stole the box?” demanded Steinmann. “He just got tired of living in space and quit his job. He couldn’t have stolen the jewels—he was searched, remember?”

“Could he have hidden it somewhere for a friend to get at this end?” inquired Syaloch.

“Hidden it? Where? Those ships don’t have secret compartments.” Steinmann spoke wearily. “And he was only aboard the Jane a few minutes, just long enough to put the box where he was supposed to.” His eyes smoldered at Gregg. “Let’s face it: the only people anywhere along the line who ever had a chance to lift it were our own dear cops.”

The Inspector reddened and half rose. “Look here, you—”

“We’ve got your word that you’re innocent,” growled Steinmann. “Why should it be any better than mine?”

Syaloch waved both men back. “If you please. Brawls are unphilosophic.” His beak opened and clattered, the Martian equivalent of a smile. “Has either of you, perhaps, a theory? I am open to all ideas.”

There was a stillness. Then Hollyday mumbled: “Yes. I have one.”

Syaloch hooded his eyes and puffed quietly, waiting.

Hollyday’s grin was shaky. “Only if I’m right, you’ll never see those jewels again.”

Gregg sputtered.

“I’ve been around the Solar System a lot,” said Hollyday. “It gets lonesome out in space. You never know how big and lonesome it is till you’ve been there, all by yourself. And I’ve done just that—I’m an amateur uranium prospector, not a lucky one so far. I can’t believe we know everything about the universe, or that there’s only vacuum between the planets.”

“Are you talking about the cobblies?” snorted Gregg.

“Go ahead and call it superstition. But if you’re in space long enough…well, somehow, you know. There are beings out there—gas beings, radiation beings, whatever you want to imagine, there’s something living in space.”

“And what use would a box of jewels be to a cobbly?”

Hollyday spread his hands. “How can I tell? Maybe we bother them, scooting through their own dark kingdom with our little rockets. Stealing the crown jewels would be a good way to disrupt the Mars trade, wouldn’t it?”