swiftness of the children's without their jerkiness. In their hands were
green goads. They pointed and came down upon the humans.

"Scatter!" yelled Summersby, and dodged under the shelf of the machine
where he had taken cover last night. He went to the end. In seconds they
would be peering under the shelf, spotting him, thrusting in their
shockers and laying him out. And, damn it all, he cared! He didn't want
to be stopped when so much of the fight was won. His heart might stop,
he couldn't help that, but till it did he wanted to go on fighting.
Balling his fists, he started to leave the sanctuary. Then he heard Adam
Pierce begin to sing.

He had a high tenor voice, mellow with a sweet touch of huskiness in it,
and he was singing "Drink to Me Only" at the top of his lungs.

He hadn't gone crazy! Summersby remembered the punishments they had
endured for making harmonious noises on the musical toy, the slap Adam
got for singing, the agonies the kids had gone through at Earth-type
melody. Adam had thought of the only weapon they could use--_song_.

"Or leave a kiss within the cup," roared Summersby, and without further
thought walked into the room. Watkins had chimed in now, breathless but
true of pitch.

Three eighteen-foot brutes were standing there. Vast hands were pressed
to bulbous heads, and agonized croaks came from gaping mouths. Whatever
a tune did to them, it wasn't pleasant. What weird auricular structure
could cringe so from a simple song? It did, and that was enough.

[Illustration]

Mrs. Full clutched his arm. "One of them struck Calvin with his prod,"
she wailed.

"Where is he?"

"Near that door."

Beginning to sing again, Summersby pelted for the prone milk inspector.
He picked him up and slung him, limp as a dead doe, over his left
shoulder. The others were gathering. He motioned them forward, and, as
Watkins joined him, ran on.

"Where'd you find your case?"

"On a table. Hope the dough is all in there." He glanced back. "They're
coming. We're racking 'em but they're game."

The woman, Adam and Villa were right behind them. As they reached the
midpoint of the third room, the dining hall, one of the beings staggered
through the door behind them. It had lost its goad and was flattening
its hands on its skull as Adam and Mrs. Full swung into "Dixie." It came
at them like a drunk, unable to navigate a straight course but
determined to reach them. It'll stamp on us, thought Summersby, easing