There was a grating sound as the metal chamber gouged into the earth,
sank its weight upon the Arizona soil. And the thing was thrown
violently against the side of the chamber.

Then there was quiet again.

Gaddon's mind fought to the fore, took control of that feline man-shape
that was his, struggled to its feet and moved in a lithe bound to the
opposite side of the chamber. A clawed hand reached up where Gaddon
knew the release mechanism of the door lay, and pressed it.

The door slid back with a sliding sound and the cool night air rushed in
upon it.

Gaddon moved his cat-body through the opening and bounded to the ground
in a lithe, powerful movement. He felt new muscles react as he landed on
the ground, and knew that there was a great strength in them. Strength
that was waiting to be used.

And he felt the other thoughts starting to move forward in his mind
again and he forced them back. He knew he must keep control of that
mind. For there was something that he must do.

He thought desperately about it. And the pattern became clearer in his
mind.

The cosmic rays. The reaction in his body. He had sought immortality in
the door to outer space and had found a monster waiting for him. A force
that had changed his glands, grown the shaggy fur on his body. Glands
that had warped his mind. Opened an age-old cunning of feline thought.

_Glands._

Gaddon's thoughts whipped the word. Held it. Knew it must be the answer.
And then it found a prayer of hope. And a name that went with that
thought.

"Fenwick! I've got to reach Fenwick before it's too late. _Before it's
too late!_"

His voice came hoarsely, strangely formed. And he looked wildly about
him. He saw, off in the distance, a glowing of lights in the night. And
he knew somehow that it was the city of Tucson.

And in that city, at its very edge, was a house he must reach.

He stumbled away into the darkness, feeling his limbs move rapidly
then, smoothly, covering the ground in great leaping strides.

And though Gaddon's thoughts kept the balance of control, deep inside
his mind, the monster growled with a cunning laughter ...

* * * * *

Fred Trent pulled the last sheet of paper from his typewriter and leaned
back in his chair exhausted. That was it, the end of the story. He waved
his hand at a copy boy and the boy ran up to take the final page. Each
sheet had been taken like that, to be immediately set in the comp