Robert Silverberg

“ Come in, now!"
"This is Ganymede," a tense voice said. "We've got trouble down here. Who are you?"
"Mail ship," Preston said. "From Earth. What's going on?"
There was the sound of voices whispering somewhere near the microphone. Finally: "Hello, Mail Ship?"
"Yeah?"
"You're going to have to turn back to Earth, fellow. You can't land here. It's rough on us, missing a mail trip, but—"
Preston said impatiently, "Why can't I land? What the devil's going on down there?"
"We've been invaded," the tired voice said. "The colony's been completely surrounded by iceworms."
"Iceworms?" ”

“ There's a ring of them about a hundred yards wide surrounding the Dome. They can't get in and we can't get out—and we can't figure out any possible approach for you."
"Pretty," Preston said. "But why didn't the things bother you while you were building your Dome?"
"Apparently they have a very long hibernation-cycle. We've only been here two years, you know. The iceworms must all have been asleep when we came. But they came swarming out of the ice by the hundreds last month."
"How come Earth doesn't know?" ”

“ Manipulating his controls with the ease of long experience, Preston guided the ship smoothly toward the gleaming bulk of far-off Jupiter. Even at this distance, he could see five or six bright pips surrounding the huge planet. There was Callisto, and—ah—there was Ganymede.
He made computations, checked his controls, figured orbits. Anything to keep from having to talk to his two ex-Patrolmates or from having to think about the humiliating job he was on. Anything to—
"Pirates! ”

“ This etext was produced from Amazing Stories September 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. ”