rip and was lost behind. Abruptly, his force field ceased.

Cole lay in the darkness at the bottom of the hill. His whole body
shrieked in agony as the unholy fire played over him. He was a blazing
cinder, a half-consumed ash flaming in a universe of darkness. The
pain made him twist and crawl like an insect, trying to burrow into
the ground. He screamed and shrieked and struggled to escape, to get
away from the hideous fire. To reach the curtain of darkness beyond,
where it was cool and silent, where the flames couldn't crackle and
eat at him.

He reached imploringly out, into the darkness, groping feebly toward
it, trying to pull himself into it. Gradually, the glowing orb that
was his own body faded. The impenetrable chaos of night descended. He
allowed the tide to sweep over him, to extinguish the searing fire.

Dixon landed his ship expertly, bringing it to a halt in front of an
overturned defense tower. He leaped out and hurried across the smoking
ground.

From a lift Reinhart appeared, surrounded by his Security police. "He
got away from us! He escaped!"

"He didn't escape," Dixon answered. "I got him myself."

Reinhart quivered violently. "What do you mean?"

"Come along with me. Over in this direction." He and Reinhart climbed
the side of a demolished hill, both of them panting for breath. "I was
landing. I saw a figure emerge from a lift and run toward the
mountains, like some sort of animal. When he came out in the open I
dived on him and released a phosphorus bomb."

"Then he's--_dead_?"

"I don't see how anyone could have lived through a phosphorus bomb."
They reached the top of the hill. Dixon halted, then pointed excitedly
down into the pit beyond the hill. "There!"

They descended cautiously. The ground was singed and burned clean.
Clouds of smoke hung heavily in the air. Occasional fires still
flickered here and there. Reinhart coughed and bent over to see. Dixon
flashed on a pocket flare and set it beside the body.

The body was charred, half destroyed by the burning phosphorus. It lay
motionless, one arm over its face, mouth open, legs sprawled
grotesquely. Like some abandoned rag doll, tossed in an incinerator
and consumed almost beyond recognition.

"He's alive!" Dixon muttered. He felt around curiously. "Must have had
some kind of protection screen. Amazing that a man could--"

"It's him? It's really him?"

"Fits the description." Dixon tore away a handful of burned clothing.
"Thi