existing here." I ran my tongue over suddenly dry lips. "You mean that if the zloors can live in our solar system, then these more intelligent aliens would figure they could use our sun system for a colonizing project?" He nodded. "Holy Wodo," I said. "No wonder they want some specimens to work on back on Earth." He relaxed again. "Well, at the rate we're going, it'll be a long time before earth laboratories ever have the opportunity to mess around with our pal the zloor." I got a chair and sat down facing him and said seriously, "Mike, brief me on what you and the other fellows have tried." "You don't have to ask. That goes with membership in the club," he grinned. "Among other things, we've tried building a steel box around one of them with the idea of putting wheels on it later." "That sounds good." "Uh huh. The trouble was that when the zloor felt like moving he walked right through the side of the steel box like you or I'd walk through a wall of tissue paper." "How about poisoning one?" I rapped. "You could get a dead one back a lot easier than—" "They don't poison," he said, "and from what we can figure they're practically immortal. We have never found a dead one." "What'd'ya mean, they don't poison?" "Just that. Nap, that animal can eat anything organic and thrive on it. Evidently, no poison that nature has ever produced affects it. At least, none of us have been able to dream one up." "How about narcotics, something to dope it?" He shook his head. "To begin with, some of these Martian plants produce narcotic effects that make the products of our poppy look like food for babes; but the zloor takes them in its stride. It's really got a cast iron stomach. We've never been able to locate anything it won't eat and enjoy eating." I didn't say anything for a long time. Then, "A Bazook-rifle would kill one." "Sure," he said, "and splatter it all around the scenery at the same time. The laboratories need a good specimen." There was another long silence. Finally I said, "Why in the
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