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"It's a planet," I said. "A little world."
"How little?" Venza demanded.
"One–fifth the mass of the Moon. That's what they've calculated now."
"And how far is it away?" Anita asked. "I heard a newscaster say yesterday…."
"Newscasters!" Venza broke in scornfully. "Say, you can take what they tell you about any danger or trouble and cut it in half; and even then you'll be on the gloomy side. See here, Gregg Haljan."
"I'm not giving you newscasters' blare," I retorted. Venza's extravagant vehemence was always refreshing. The Venus girl glared at me. I added: "Anita mentioned newscasters; I didn't."
Anita was in no mood for smiling. "Tell us, Gregg." She sat upright and tense, her chin cupped in her hands. "Tell us."
"For a fact, they don't know much about it yet. You can call it a planet, a wanderer."
"I should say it was a wanderer!" Venza exclaimed. "Coming from heaven knows where beyond the stars, swimming in here like a comet."