swung high, his shirt slipped back, making Hogan's expression change from surprise to bug-eyed horror. Netting a strong man did not prove as practical as the thing may have imagined. Mouthing obscenities, Hogan shook loose, scooped up his rifle and fled. As he reached the cover of a cylindrical, he whirled, fired, missing an easy, motionless target in his haste, and fled again. The thing unslung the rifle and started in pursuit.

Hogan's tracks were easy to follow in the dust, but where whirling wind from the cross streets had swept them away, the thing followed as confidently as ever. It was not hunting by sight. After they exchanged shots and crossed over the trail the party had made on entering the city, it became obvious that Hogan was leading it straight to the spheroid. The Captain's brain cursed him silently. The fool!

As he topped the last rise, the thing stopped him abruptly. There, gleaming in the sunshine was the spheroid. Before the entry hatch two tiny figures gesticulated. Hogan was telling Templar all about it. Shivering, the thing pulled the shirt up over his head again. Then it dallied, still shivering, obviously searching for a plan of action.

Didn't expect anything like that did you? the Captain thought. He tried to speak and did manage to drool a little. Then it started him down the hill, freezing his left hand at waist level long before he could grab. Real terror struck the Captain now. The thing was going to try some sort of bluff. It was going to try to take the ship.

"Here he comes," shouted Templar.

It waved the Captain's left arm and broke into a run. Templar ran to meet it. But Hogan ran after Templar and grabbed his shoulder. Templar shook him off.

"Stop," Hogan screamed. "I tell you, he's a murdering maniac."

But Templar ran to the Captain.

"Put your arm over my neck, sir. Gee you've hurt your eye terribly."

But the Captain gave no sign of understanding. He pulled back suspiciously when Templar reached for his arm.

"Sir, are you all right? I think Hogan is almost crazy enough to shoot us. He's gone absolutely mad."

Covering them with his rifle, Hogan came closer, his dust-streaked face aquiver with indecision. "He's nuts Temp. Look at his face. Why doesn't he speak?"

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