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immediately.”
    “Plan B!” exclaimed Jet angrily. “That means a complete turnaround. Return to Base immediately, regardless of what we think our chances are. Plan A would give us some choice in. the matter; if I thought it safe to go on, I’d go. But if Control orders Plan B I have no choice. Even if we were about to touch down on Mars we’d have to turn back.”
    “But they can’t expect us to abandon the whole project without giving some valid reason,” protested Mitch.
    “You know the golden rule on this trip. Carry out orders first, ask questions afterwards.”
    “In an emergency, yes,” replied the engineer indignantly; “but what emergency is there?”
    “This is where I intend to break the golden rule,” said Jet, “and ask them.” He turned back to the microphone. “Hullo, Control--Morgan calling. Have received your message but am at a loss to understand it. Expedition is going well. Can you give me your reasons for ordering Plan B?”
    “If the Controller gave that order,” said Lemmy, “He’ll be hopping mad at your questioning it.”
    “No madder than I am at his giving it,” said Jet.
    The voice of Control came back almost at once, loud and clear. “Your message received. Emergency Operation Plan B to be carried out at once.”
    “There,” said Lemmy, “what did I tell you?”
    “Orders must be obeyed without question at all times,” continued Control blandly.
    “Yes,” protested Jet, “but . . . hey, wait a minute. What did he say?” he asked, looking round at the three of us.
    “Orders must be obeyed without question at all times,” I repeated.
    “Control never used that expression before,” said Jet. “But it’s not the first time we’ve heard it,” Lemmy reminded us.
    “Whitaker!” I said.
    “Yes,” said Jet, “Whitaker.”
    “But that’s the voice of Control,” said Mitch. “I’d know it anywhere.”
    “It certainly sounded like Control,” I said.
    “Lemmy,” said Jet, “turn back the tape.”
    “How far?” asked Lemmy.
    “To the part where Control first called us.”
    “Right.”
    “What do you intend to do?” I asked, as Lemmy wound the tape back.
    “Listen to it all again,” replied the Captain.
    And listen to it we did. To every word, from the time when Jet first replied to Control’s calls until the statement about orders being carried out without question. When the playback had finished, Mitch said: “Control. No doubt about it. I’d stake my life on it.”
    “It sounds like them, all right,” admitted Lemmy, “but it still doesn’t explain why the time-lag between replies is so short--or why we hear them so loud and clear.”
    We played the tape again and listened to it in silence. But this time Mitch suddenly gave a start as the recorded voice said: “By order of the Supreme Council, Flagship Discovery and accompanying freighters are to abandon all attempts to reach Mars and return to Moon Base immediately.”
    “That’s not the same voice,” the Australian said excitedly. “Almost, but not quite. Before the actual message, a new voice took over.”
    We played the tape a third time.
    “It is a different voice,” said Jet. “In the shock of being told to turn back we just didn’t notice it. Lemmy, could you get a bearing on that signal?”
    “Yes, if you keep him talking long enough I could.”
    “All right, get ready to do it. I’ll call him up.”
    Lemmy sat at the controls and switched in the directional aerial. Five minutes later, Jet said: “Well, what’s the bearing?”
    “One degree to starboard,” announced the radio operator. “Azimuth reading. Altitude nil, depth nil. That means he’s almost right slap in front of us, whoever he is.”
    Jet switched off the transmitter and turned to face us. “Well, gentlemen,” he said, “I think that about settles that. It’s not Control. It’s someone using the voice of Control in the hope of fooling us into turning back.”
    “But who?” asked