n infant bat.

The E.T.L. crept in a small looping course on the cage floor, back to
one half of the mud shell that had encased it. It tried to mount this,
perhaps to gain a vantage point for better observation. But it fell
and turned over. Its ventral surface was ceiling-ward; its tendrils
writhed furiously as it tried to right itself. I thought of a
horseshoe crab, stranded on its back and kicking helplessly. But this
thing's form and movement were even more alien.

After a moment, I followed an impulse which was part duty to my job
and part pity. I tipped the little horror back on its bottom, glad
that there was a glove between me and it. Then I did the same thing I
would do with a pet puppy or kitten. I set a dish of food--chemically
prepared to duplicate the contents of the tubes we had found in the
wreck--right down in front of the E.T.L.

It fumbled at the stuff and, possibly because of a gravity
two-and-a-half times as great as it was made for, it almost got itself
stuck in the mess. But it freed itself. Its mouth-flaps began to make
lapping movements as it sucked the nourishment.

I felt prematurely relieved. This was no potentially dominant wizard
in a strange body, I told myself. This was pure animal.

Over my helmet radiophone--there was a mike outside the cage, so they
could communicate with me when I was inside--I heard Miller say to the
reporters:

"The feeding instinct. They've got it, too. Now we know for sure...."

* * * * *

I think that the E.T.L. had colic from that first meal, though, like
any half-smart puppy trainer, I tried not to let it eat too much. It
writhed for a while, as if in pain. And I was on pins. How was I
supposed to know just what was best to feed the thing, so it would
survive? Everything was guesswork, varying formulas cautiously,
groping. And it wasn't only the food. There was the searching for the
temperature, the air-pressure and the degree of dryness at which the
E.T.L. seemed most comfortable. And there was also the fiddling around
with light-composition and intensities, variable in the sun lamps, to
find what seemed best.

We seemed to have figured things out right--or else the monster was
just rugged. It shed several skins, thrived and grew active. Its size
increased steadily. And other things began to grow in that cage. Odd,
hard-shelled, bluish-green weeds; lichenous patches, dry as dust;
invisible, un-Earthly bacteria--all were