nt's
Child_, who had ridden through the bucking of the tremendous explosion,
were unprepared for this movement, for they had risen from their deep
seats. They sprawled across the room, smashing up against the wall with
bone-jarring thumps. Pinkham found himself entangled with Circe Smith in
a pretzel of arms and legs that would under other circumstances have
been ridiculous but pleasurable. Fearing for her safety, he grasped her
around the waist; she yielded to him a moment, then struggled back and
stood up. Was her face flushed with indignation, fright, or--? He got to
his own feet. The giant had released the ship.

"We are chastened," murmured Jerry, feeling a bruised shin.

"And now what?" asked Joe Silver. "Ordinary weapons are as much use to
us as spitballs." He sat down. "Let's figure out what else to try.
Somewhere there's an answer."

They all sat down, Pink said, "Remember Wolf 864?"

"Sure," said Daley, who had been on that expedition with Pinkham when
they were young cubs out of jetschool. "Friendly natives, kind of
vegetable-animal life, and we murdered half of them unintentionally. We
had to get out and never go back."

"How?" asked Circe. "How did you kill them?"

"Germs. The common ordinary non-toxic germs we carry in our systems all
the time. It was a massacre--and of a queer, sweet kind of beast. They
had no tolerance for our microbes."

"I volunteer to find the alien and breathe in his face," said Jerry.
"Somebody hand me an onion," he added.

The conversation went on. It grew aimless to Pink, a bunch of boys
whistling by a graveyard, eight prisoners speculating on their escape
when they had no real knowledge of their jailer. He fiddled with the
intercom, saw that the crew had gathered by the mutiny gates and were
waiting tensely, puny weapons in their hands. He spoke a few words of
encouragement to them. 57 men--whom he hated to see die. Somehow he had
to save them.

It was about half an hour afterwards that he first discovered he was
breathing too shallowly.

CHAPTER XI

"What is it?" asked Circe. Her lovely face was a trifle pallid. "I feel
odd--and you all look pale."

Then it struck Pink. None of the others, even Daley, had recognized what
was happening. He did not dare waste a second in telling them. He tore
the door open and leaped into the corridor.

Deliberately he tried to draw as much oxygen into his lungs as he could.
It was growing rarer every instant; but never mi