"All we do know is that they wrote a lot of lousy advertising copy."

h.e.l.lman ignored that. "What kind of intelligent beings would evolve on a planet that is all mountains?"

"Stupid ones!" Casker said.

That was no help. But h.e.l.lman found that he couldn't draw any inferences from the mountains. It didn't tell him if the late Helgans ate silicates or proteins or iodine-base foods or anything.

"Now look," h.e.l.lman said, "we'll have to work this out by pure logic--Are you listening to me?"

"Sure," Casker said.

"Okay. There's an old proverb that covers our situation perfectly: 'One man's meat is another man's poison.'"

"Yeah," Casker said. He was positive his stomach had shrunk to approximately the size of a marble.

"We can a.s.sume, first, that their meat is our meat."

Casker wrenched himself away from a vision of five juicy roast beefs dancing tantalizingly before him. "What if their meat is our _poison_?

What then?"

"Then," h.e.l.lman said, "we will a.s.sume that their poison is our meat."

"And what happens if their meat _and_ their poison are our poison?"

"We starve."

"All right," Casker said, standing up. "Which a.s.sumption do we start with?"

"Well, there's no sense in asking for trouble. This _is_ an oxygen planet, if that means anything. Let's a.s.sume that we can eat some basic food of theirs. If we can't we'll start on their poisons."

"If we live that long," Casker said.

h.e.l.lman began to translate labels. They discarded such brands as ANDROGYNITES' DELIGHT AND VERBELL--FOR LONGER, CURLIER, MORE SENSITIVE ANTENNAE, until they found a small gray box, about six inches by three by three. It was called VALKORIN'S UNIVERSAL TASTE TREAT, FOR ALL DIGESTIVE CAPACITIES.

"This looks as good as any," h.e.l.lman said. He opened the box.

Casker leaned over and sniffed. "No odor."

Within the box they found a rectangular, rubbery red block. It quivered slightly, like jelly.

"Bite into it," Casker said.

"Me?" h.e.l.lman asked. "Why not you?"

"You picked it."

"I prefer just looking at it," h.e.l.lman said with dignity. "I'm not too hungry."

"I'm not either," Casker said.

They sat on the floor and stared at the jellylike block. After ten minutes, h.e.l.lman yawned, leaned back and closed his eyes.

"All right, coward," Casker said bitterly. "I'll try it. Just remember, though, if I'm poisoned, you'll never get off this planet.

You don't know how to pilot."

"Just take a little bite, then," h.e.l.lman advised.

Casker leaned over and stared at the block. Then he prodded it with his thumb.

The rubbery red block giggled.

"Did you hear that?" Casker yelped, leaping back.

"I didn't hear anything," h.e.l.lman said, his hands shaking. "Go ahead."

Casker prodded the block again. It giggled louder, this time with a disgusting little simper.

"Okay," Casker said, "what do we try next?"

"Next? What's wrong with this?"

"I don't eat anything that giggles," Casker stated firmly.

"Now listen to me," h.e.l.lman said. "The creatures who manufactured this might have been trying to create an esthetic sound as well as a pleasant shape and color. That giggle is probably only for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the eater."

"Then bite into it yourself," Casker offered.

h.e.l.lman glared at him, but made no move toward the rubbery block.

Finally he said, "Let's move it out of the way."

They pushed the block over to a corner. It lay there giggling softly to itself.

"Now what?" Casker said.

h.e.l.lman looked around at the jumbled stacks of incomprehensible alien goods. He noticed a door on either side of the room.

"Let's have a look in the other sections," he suggested.

Casker shrugged his shoulders apathetically.

Slowly they trudged to the door in the left wall. It was locked and h.e.l.lman burned it open with the ship's burner.

It was a wedge-shaped room, piled with incomprehensible alien goods.

The hike back across the room seemed like miles, but they made it only slightly out of wind. h.e.l.lman blew out the lock and they looked in.

It was a wedge-shaped room, piled with incomprehensible alien goods.