on him that he might not need it.

The alien had sunk to its knees, was making a convulsive effort to rise
but obviously lacked the strength! Somehow, and God alone knew how,
Pinkham had wounded the beast!

He drew back to the wall, watching. The agony of the big humanoid was
doubling it over and throwing it upright as though a volcano were
erupting in its belly. It flung out an arm, struck a foam-chair, which
shattered explosively. Pink put more feet between them. The convulsions
were like those of a harpooned whale. Yet the creature did not seem able
to move from its knees. Finally, perhaps a minute after the first
throes, it collapsed all at once, a crumpled titan. Pink cautiously
opened the door, just as Daley was reaching for the handle.

"What in hell did you _do_?" shouted the lieutenant.

"Shot him with a revolving-chamber pistol of the mid-19th Century," said
Pink. His rib was hurting and his flesh felt bruised all over. He
grinned. "Figure that one, boy. Atomic disintegrator doesn't work,
antique powder-using firearm does. I'm too beat to know why."

"It's crazy," said Joe Silver flatly. They all stood around the alien,
which was sprawled on its back. The red eyes gleamed, but no muscle
moved in the great body. They looked for signs of the wounds, for holes
or dissolving matter, for anything different; there was nothing. "What
if--" began Silver.

"This can wait." Pink took a deep breath, which hurt, and cleared his
throat. "There's plenty to be done. Jerry, check your scanner and
detectors for possible damage. Sparks, get on the radio to _Cottabus_
and _Diogenes_; tell 'em everything, and warn them to come in
cautiously. Kinkare, Daley, see what you can do with the space drive."

He walked to the chest and picked up the box of Colt cartridges. He
loaded the weapon again. "This works--and for now I'm not asking why.
I'll stay with this scum of the void and try to get something out of him
that'll clear things up. Bill, you determine our position and give it to
Sparks; then start checking all the other equipment for bugs." He looked
at Joe Silver. "You collect the bodies of the dead officers and prepare
them for space burial."

"Why me?" blurted Silver.

Pink gave him a long look. "Because it's an officer's job. Because I
tell you to. And Silver--"

"Yeah?"

"I have decided that this is no longer a grade A emergency."

Joe Silver said stiffly, "Yes, sir."

* * * * *