ey began to withdraw, regrouping,
blazing away with ice darts and spears at Plutonians who had appeared in
hastily-donned space garments.

Burl fired, then plunged on. He had to get to the hall where Russ was
imprisoned.

Finally he was out of sight and sound of the Neptunians and their
adversaries. Behind him a door swung down. He was nearing the heart of
the building now. The remaining Plutonians were sealing it off, rallying
for their final defense.

He was now cut off from support. But he still counted on confusion and
surprise to aid him. He ran down a long hall to a vast central chamber
and arrived a split second before the door slammed shut after him. The
museum of galactic life!

It was a huge hall, oval in shape. In its center was a block that might
be an altar. Lining the walls on each side, ranging from the great door
on the far end to the equally ornate one through which Burl had come,
were floor-to-ceiling niches with gently curved, transparent fronts. He
could see dark shapes standing motionless within each of these
exhibition cases.

There were also about two dozen Plutonians in the hall, most of them
grouped around the central altar. They wore gaudy harnesses and carried
sharp, swordlike wands.

Two of them started for Burl, and he leveled his weapon and fired. There
was a flash of light and one of the creatures dropped senseless. The
other turned and scuttled away, uttering barking cries.

Burl glanced hastily around. The rest of the Plutonians--priests or
curators or executioners, whatever they were--advanced slowly on Burl.
He couldn't get them all, but he'd try. He fired it again.

This time the weapon failed to go off. Its charge was used up. The
Plutonians yelped with delight and pressed forward, flourishing their
swords.

Burl desperately hurled a globe-and-rod at them, meanwhile looking
around for a new weapon, But he saw only the shining glass fronts of the
exhibits. In the nearest case was a manlike being, dark purple in color,
a thing with a fixed but intelligent stare in its slanted yellow eyes.
It had two tall ears, a wide chest, and a curling tail, and was wearing
a belt with pouches and a short kilt that only about half covered his
two long, hairy legs.

Burl spun on his heel, swooped upon the gleaming swordlike wand that had
fallen from the dead Plutonian, and racing back to the exhibit, brought
it up with all his might against the transparent surface.

The glassy stuff cra