 How did the Mercurians adjust to the heat?
But now, on Mercury, he was selling his guns into the weirdest of all his exploits—gambling his life against the soft touch of a woman's lips. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Summer 1945. The song was a rollicking, ribald ditty, a favorite of the planters and miners, the space pilots and army officers who frequented the garden. Fans spaced about the garden's walls sluggishly stirred the night air, while the men and women sitting at the tables drank heavily of Latonka, the pale green wine of Mercury. Only the native waiters, the enigmatic, yellow-eyed Mercurians, seemed unaffected by the heat. The pianist swung around on his stool, lifted his black eyes to the gate leading to the street. The Mercurian, his yellow incurious eyes like two round topazes, sidled up. "So," said the red-head; "you have come. "I did not want to call you in, Jaro Moynahan." The real Mercurian patriots are against it, but they are afraid to protest. The revolution is scheduled to break during the Festival of the Rains. If it does, the Terrestrials here will be massacred. Jaro Moynahan wiped the sweat from his forehead with a fine duraweb handkerchief. The Mercurians worship him. Jaro Moynahan refilled their empty glasses. The girl started, glanced at the pianist, said with a shiver: "We can't locate Karfial Hodes. "Ah," said Jaro Moynahan; "so that's the way it is." One moment the garden was glowing in light, the next the hot black night swooped down on the revelers, pressing against their eyes like dark wool. Jaro Moynahan slipped sideways from the table. Across the table from Jaro there was the feel of movement; he could sense it. On the heels of his speech the lights flashed on, driving the night upward. Jaro Moynahan sat quietly back down and poured himself another glass of Latonka. On the hot, teeming planet of Mercury it was as refreshing as a cold plunge. Peet controlled the Latonka trade for which there was a tremendous demand throughout the Universe. These yellow-eyed Mercurians could see as well in the dark as any alley-prowling cat. For centuries they had lived most their lives beneath ground to escape the terrible rays of the sun. Only at night did they emerge to work their fields and ply their trades. The Mercurian glanced at the bill, then back at the Earthman.
 They mostly lived under the ground.
 Their yellow eyes filtered the sun’s rays.  They mostly lived under the ground.  Their skin kept them cool.  They would sweat to cool off.