Icy water splashed into Ed Garth's face and dripped down his tattered, grimy shirt. It was a tremendous effort to open his eyes. Fumes of the native Ganymedean rotgut liquor were swimming in his brain. Someone was shaking him roughly. Garth's stocky body jerked convulsively. He struck out, his drink-swollen face twisted with frightened fury, and gasped, " Ylgana! Vo m'trana al-khron —" The hand on his shoulder fell away. Someone said, "That's it, Paula! The Ancient Tongue!" And a girl's voice, d