bly horrible, abysmally atrocious,
things. Qualities and quantities and urges and drives that no words in
any language could even begin to portray.

"It doesn't seem to, but there it is." Teddy Blake shook her head
hopelessly.

Big Bill Karns, hands still shaking, lit a cigarette before he spoke
again. "Well, I've never been a proponent of genocide. But it's my
considered opinion that the Stretts are one race the galaxy can get
along without."

"A hell of a lot better without," Poynter said, and all agreed.

"The point is, what can we do about it?" Kincaid asked. "The first
thing, I would say, is to see whether we can do this--whatever it
is--without Tuly's help. Shall we try it? Although I, for one, don't
feel like doing it right away."

"Not I, either." Beverly Bell held up her right hand, which was shaking
uncontrollably. "I feel as though I'd been bucking waves, wind and tide
for forty-eight straight hours without food, water or touch. Maybe in
about a week I'll be ready for another try at it. But today--not a
chance!"

"Okay. Scat, all of you," Hilton ordered. "Take the rest of the day off
and rest up. Put on your thought-screens and don't take them off for a
second from now on. Those Stretts are tough hombres."

Sandra was the last to leave. "And you, boss?" she asked pointedly.

"I've got some thinking to do."

"I'll stay and help you think?"

"Not yet." He shook his head, frowned and then grinned. "You see, chick,
I don't even know yet what it is I'm going to have to think about."

"A bit unclear, but I know what you mean--I think. Luck, chief."

* * * * *

In their subterranean sanctum turn on distant Strett, two of the deepest
thinkers of that horribly unhuman race were in coldly intent conference
via thought.

"My mind has been plundered, Ynos," First Lord Thinker Zoyar radiated,
harshly. "Despite the extremely high reactivity of my shield some
information--I do not know how much--was taken. The operator was one of
the humans of that ship."

"I, too, felt a plucking at my mind. But those humans could not
peyondire, First Lord."

"Be logical, fool! At that contact, in the matter of which you erred in
not following up continuously, they succeeded in concealing their real
abilities from you."

"That could be the truth. Our ancestors erred, then, in recording that
all those weak and timid humans had been slain. These offenders are
probably their descendants, r