'Three sets of numbers,' said Vernadsky. There would have to be three. Three coordinates in space with dates attached, giving three positions of the asteroid in its orbit about the sun. From these data the orbit could be calculated in full and its position determined at any time. Even planetary perturbations could be accounted for, roughly.

'Yes,' said the silicony, lower still.

'What were they? What were the numbers? Write them down, Hawkins. Get paper.'

But the silicony said, 'Do not know. Numbers not important. Eating place there.'

Hawkins said. That's plain enough. It didn't need the coordinates, so it paid no attention to them.'

The silicony said 'Soon not'-a long pause, and then slowly, as though testing a new and unfamiliar word- 'alive. Soon'-an even longer pause-'dead. What after death?'

'Hang on,' implored Vernadsky. Tell me, did the captain write down these figures anywhere?'

The silicony did not answer for a long minute and then, while both men bent so closely that their heads almost touched over the dying stone, it said, 'What after death?'

Vernadsky shouted, 'One answer. Just one. The captain must have written down the numbers. Where? Where?'

The silicony whispered, 'On the asteroid.'

And it never spoke again.

It was a dead rock, as dead as the rock which gave it birth, as dead as the walls of the ship, as dead as a dead human.

And Vernadsky and Hawkins rose from their knees and stared hopelessly at each other.

'It makes no sense,' said Hawkins. 'Why should he write the coordinates on the asteroid. That's like locking a key inside the cabinet it's meant to open.'

Vernadsky shook his head. 'A fortune in uranium. The biggest strike in history and we don't know where it is.'

H. Seton Davenport looked about him with an odd feeling of pleasure. Even in repose, there was usually something hard about his lined face with its prominent nose. The scar on his right cheek, his black hair, startling eyebrows, and dark complexion all combined to make him look every bit the incorruptible agent of the Terrestrial Bureau of Investigation that he actually was.

Yet now something almost like a smile tugged at his lips as he looked about the large room, in which dimness made the rows of book-films appear endless, and specimens of who-knows-what from who-knows-where bulk mysteriously. The complete disorder, the air of separation, almost insulation, from the world, made the room look unreal. It made it look every bit as unreal as its owner.

That owner sat in a combination armchair-desk which was bathed in the only focus of bright light in the room. Slowly he turned the sheets of official reports he held in his hand. His hand moved otherwise only to adjust the thick spectacles which threatened at any moment to fall completely from his round and completely unimpressive nubbin of a nose. His paunch lifted and fell quietly as he read.

He was Dr. Wendell Urth, who, if the judgment of experts counted for anything, was Earth's most outstanding extraterrologist. On any subject outside Earth men came to him, though Dr. Urth had never in his adult life been more than an hour's-walk distance from his home on the University campus.

He looked up solemnly at Inspector Davenport. 'A very intelligent man, this young Vernadsky,' he said.

To have deduced all he did from the presence of the silicony ? Quite so,' said Davenport.

'No, no. The deduction was a simple thing. Unavoidable, in fact. A noodle would have seen it. I was referring'-and his glance grew a trifle censorious-'to the fact that the youngster had read of my experiments concerning the gamma-ray sensitivity of Siliconeus asteroidea.' 'Ah, yes,' said Davenport. Of course. Dr. Urth was the expert on siliconies. It was why Davenport had come to consult him. He had only one question for the man, a simple one, yet Dr. Urth had thrust out his full lips, shaken his ponderous head, and asked to see all the documents in the case.

Ordinarily that would have been out of the question, but Dr. Urth had recently been of considerable use to the T.B.I, in that affair of the Singing Bells of Luna and the singular non-alibi shattered by Moon gravity, and the Inspector had yielded.

Dr. Urth finished the reading, laid the sheets down on his desk, yanked his shirttail out of the tight confines of his belt with a grunt and rubbed his glasses with it. He stared through the glasses at the light to see the effects of his cleaning, replaced them precariously on his nose, and clasped his hands on his paunch, stubby fingers interlacing.

'Your question again, Inspector?'

Davenport said patiently, 'Is it true, in your opinion, that a silicony of the size and type described in the report could only have developed on a world rich in uranium--'

'Radioactive material,' interrupted Dr. Urth. Thorium, perhaps, though probably uranium.'

'Is your answer yes, then ?'

'Yes.'

'How big would the world be?'

'A mile in diameter, perhaps,' said the extraterrologist thoughtfully. 'Perhaps even more.'

'How many tons of uranium, or radioactive material, rather?'

'In the trillions. Minimum.'

'Would you be willing to put all that in the form of a signed opinion in writing?'

'Of course.'

'Very well then, Dr. Urth.' Davenport got to his feet, reached for his hat with one hand and the file of reports with the other. 'That is all we need.'

But Dr. Urth's hand moved to the reports and rested heavily upon them. 'Wait. How will you find the asteroid?'

'By looking. We'll assign a volume of space to every ship made available to us and-just look.'

The expense, the time, the effort! And you'll never find it.'

'One chance in a thousand. We might'

'One chance in a million. You won't.'

'We can't let the uranium go without some try. Your professional opinion makes the prize high enough.'

'But there is a better way to find the asteroid. I can find it.'

Davenport fixed the extraterrologist with a sudden, sharp glance. Despite appearances Dr. Urth was anything but a fool. He had personal experience of that. There was therefore just a bit of half-hope in his voice as he said, 'How can you find it?'

'First,' said Dr. Urth, 'my price.'

'Price?'

'Or fee, if you choose. When the government reaches the asteroid, there may be another large-size silicony on it. Siliconies are very valuable. The only form of life with solid silicone for tissues and liquid silicone as a circulating fluid. The answer to the question whether the asteroids were once part of a single planetary body may rest with them. Any number of other problems ... Do you understand?'

'You mean you want a large silicony delivered to you ?'

'Alive and well. And free of charge. Yes.'

Davenport nodded. 'I'm sure the government will agree. Now what have you on your mind?'

Dr. Urth said quietly, as though explaining everything, 'The silicony's remark.'

Davenport looked bewildered. 'What remark?'

The one in the report. Just before the silicony died. Vernadsky was asking it where the captain had written down the coordinates, and it said, "On the asteroid." '

A look of intense disappointment crossed Davenport's face. 'Great space, Doctor, we know that, and we've gone into every angle of it. Every possible angle. It means nothing.'

'Nothing at all, Inspector?'

'Nothing of importance. Read the report again. The silicony wasn't even listening to Vernadsky. He was feeling life depart and he was wondering about it. Twice, it asked, "What after death?" Then, as Vernadsky kept questioning it, it said, "On the asteroid." Probably it never heard Vernadsky's question. It was answering its own question. It thought that after death it would return to its own asteroid; to its home, where it would be safe once more. That's all.'

Dr. Urth shook his head. 'You are too much a poet, you know. You imagine too much. Come, it is an interesting problem and let us see if you can't solve it for yourself. Suppose the silicony's remark were an answer to Vernadsky.'

'Even so,' said Davenport impatiently, 'how would it help? Which asteroid? The uranium asteroid? We can't find it, so we can't find the coordinates. Some other asteroid which the Robert Q. had used as a home base? We can't find that either.'

'How you avoid the obvious. Inspector. Why don't you ask yourself what the phrase "on the asteroid" means to the silicony. Not to you or to me, but to the silicony.'

Davenport frowned. 'Pardon me, Doctor?'

'I'm speaking plainly. What did the word asteroid mean to the silicony?'

'The silicony learned about space out of an astronomy text that was read to it. I suppose the book explained what an asteroid was.'

'Exactly,' crowed Dr. Urth, putting a finger to the side of his snub nose. 'And how would the definition go? An asteroid is a small body, smaller than the planets, moving about the sun in an orbit which, generally speaking, lies between those of Mars and Jupiter. Wouldn't you agree?'

'I suppose so.'

'And what is the Robert Q.?'

'You mean the ship?'

That's what you call it,' said Dr. Urth. The ship. But the astronomy book was an ancient one. It made no mention of ships in space. One of the crewmen said as much. He said it dated from before space flight. Then what is the Robert Q.? Isn't it a small body, smaller than the planets? And while the silicony was aboard, wasn't it moving about the sun in an orbit which, generally speaking, lay between those of Mars and Jupiter?'

'You mean the silicony considered the ship as just another asteroid, and when he said "on the asteroid," he meant "on the ship"?'

'Exactly. I told you I would make you solve the problem for yourself.'

No expression of joy or relief lightened the gloom on the Inspector's face. That is no solution. Doctor.'

But Dr. Urth blinked slowly at him and the bland look on his round face became, if anything, blander and more childlike in its uncomplicated pleasure. 'Surely it is.'

'Not at all. Dr. Urth, we didn't reason it out as you did. We dismissed the silicony's remark completely. But still, don't you suppose we searched the Robert Q.?' We took it apart piece by piece, plate by plate. We just about unwelded the thing.'

'And you found nothing?'

'Nothing.'

'Perhaps you did not look in the right place.'

'We looked in every place.' He stood up, as though to go. 'You understand, Dr. Urth ? When we got through with the ship there was no possibility of those coordinates existing anywhere on it.'

'Sit down, Inspector,' said Dr. Urth calmly. 'You are still not considering the silicony's statement properly. Now the silicony learned English by collecting a word here and a word there. It couldn't speak idiomatic English. Some of its statements, as quoted, show that. For instance, it said, "the planet which is most far" instead of "the farthest planet." You see?'

'Well?'

'Someone who cannot speak a language idiomatically either uses the idioms of his own language translated word by word or else he simply uses foreign words according to their literal meaning. The silicony had no spoken language of its own so it could only make use of the second alternative. Let's be literal, then. He said, "on the asteroid," Inspector. On it. He didn't mean on a piece of paper, he meant on the ship, literally.'

'Dr. Urth,' said Davenport sadly, 'when the Bureau searches, it searches. There were no mysterious inscriptions on the ship either.'

Dr. Urth looked disappointed. 'Dear me, Inspector. I keep hoping you will see the answer. Really, you have had so many hints.'

Davenport drew in a slow, firm breath. It went hard, but his voice was calm and even once more. 'Will you tell me what you have in mind, Doctor?'

Dr. Urth patted his comfortable abdomen with one hand and replaced his glasses. 'Don't you see, Inspector, that there is one place on board a spaceship where secret numbers are perfectly safe? Where, although in plain view, they would be perfectly safe from detection ? Where though they were being stared at by a hundred eyes, they would be secure? Except from a seeker who is an astute thinker, of course.'

'Where? Name the place!'

'Why, in those places where there happen to be numbers already. Perfectly normal numbers. Legal numbers. Numbers that are supposed to be there.'

'What are you talking about ?'

'The ship's serial number, etched directly on the hull. On the hull, be it noted. The engine number, the field generator number. A few others. Each etched on integral portions of the ship. On the ship, as the silicony said. On the ship.'

Davenport's heavy eyebrows rose with sudden comprehension. 'You may be all right-and if you are, I'm hoping we find you a silicony twice the size of the Robert Q.'s. One that not only talks, but whistles, "Up, Asteroids, Forever!" ' He hastily reached for the dossier, thumbed rapidly through it and extracted an official T.B.I, form. 'Of course, we noted down all the identification numbers we found.' He spread the form out. 'If three of these resemble coordinates ...'

'We should expect some small effort at disguise,' Dr. Urth observed. There will probably be certain letters and figures added to make the series appear more legitimate.'

He reached for a scratch pad and shoved another toward the Inspector. For minutes the two men were silent, jotting down serial numbers, experimenting with crossing out obviously unrelated figures.

At last Davenport let out a sigh that mingled satisfaction and frustration. 'I'm stuck,' he admitted. 'I think you're right; the numbers on the engine and the calculator are clearly disguised coordinates and dates. They don't run anywhere near the normal series, and it's easy to strike out the fake figures. That gives us two, but I'll take my oath the rest of these are absolutely legitimate serial numbers. What are your findings, Doctor?'

Dr. Urth nodded. 'I agree. We now have two coordinates and we know where the third was inscribed.'

'We know, do we ? And how--' The Inspector broke off and uttered a sharp exclamation. 'Of course! The number on the very ship itself, which isn't entered here-because it was on the precise spot on the hull where the meteor crashed through-I'm afraid there goes your silicony. Doctor.' Then his craggy face brightened. 'But I'm an idiot. The number's gone, but we can get it in a flash from Interplanetary' Registry.'

'I fear,' said Dr. Urth, 'that I must dispute at least the second part of your statement. Registry will have only the ship's original legitimate number, not the disguised coordinate to which the captain must have altered it.'

The exact spot on the hull,' Davenport muttered. 'And because of that chance shot the asteroid may be lost forever. What use to anybody are two coordinates without the third?'

'Well,' said Dr. Urth precisely, 'conceivably of very great use to a two-dimensional being. But creatures of our dimensions,' he patted his paunch, 'do require the third-which I fortunately happen to have right here.'

'In the T.B.I, dossier? But we just checked the list of numbers--'

'Your list, Inspector. The file also includes young Vernadsk's original report. And of course the serial number listed there for the Robert Q. is the carefully faked one under which she was then sailing-no point in rousing the curiosity of a repair mechanic by letting him note a discrepancy.'

Davenport reached for a scratch pad and the Vernadsky list. A moment's calculation and he grinned.