What, then?" he asked.

"Let me think," Pid said.

Another creature lurched past, on four legs instead of two. Pid
recognized it as a Dog, a pet of Man. He watched it carefully.

The Dog ambled to the gate, head down, in no particular hurry. It
walked through, unchallenged, and lay down in the grass.

"H'm," Pid said.

They watched. One of the Men walked past, and touched the Dog on the
head. The Dog stuck out its tongue and rolled over on its side.

"I can do that," Ger said excitedly. He started to flow into the shape
of a Dog.

"No, wait," Pid said. "We'll spend the rest of the day thinking it
over. This is too important to rush into."

Ger subsided sulkily.

"Come on, let's move back," Pid said. He and Ger started into the
woods. Then he remembered Ilg.

"Ilg?" he called softly.

There was no answer.

"Ilg!"

"What? Oh, yes," an oak tree said, and melted into a bush. "Sorry.
What were you saying?"

"We're moving back," Pid said. "Were you, by any chance, Thinking?"

"Oh, no," Ilg assured him. "Just resting."

Pid let it go at that. There was too much else to worry about.

* * * * *

They discussed it for the rest of the day, hidden in the deepest part
of the woods. The only alternatives seemed to be Man or Dog. A Tree
couldn't walk past the gates, since that was not in the nature of
trees. Nor could anything else, and escape notice.

Going as a Man seemed too risky. They decided that Ger would sally out
in the morning as a Dog.

"Now get some sleep," Pid said.

Obediently his two crewmen flattened out, going immediately Shapeless.
But Pid had a more difficult time.

Everything looked too easy. Why wasn't the atomic installation better
guarded? Certainly the Men must have learned something from the
expeditions they had captured in the past. Or had they killed them
without asking any questions?

You couldn't tell what an alien would do.

Was that open gate a trap?

Wearily he flowed into a comfortable position on the lumpy ground.
Then he pulled himself together hastily.

He had gone Shapeless!

Comfort was not in the line of duty, he reminded himself, and firmly
took a Pilot's Shape.

But a Pilot's Shape wasn't constructed for sleeping on damp, bumpy
ground. Pid spent a restless night, thinking of ships, and wishing he
were flying one.

He awoke in the morning tired and ill-tempered. He nudged Ger.

"Let's get this over with," he said.

Ger fl