oid
or"--she caught her breath--"or actually a creature from outer space,
the stars. Simon Dalgetty, what are you?"

"If I answered that," he said with desolation in his voice, "I'd
probably be lying anyway. You've got to trust me this far."

She sighed. "All right." He didn't know if she was lying too.

He laid the rifle down and folded his hands on top of his head. She
walked behind him, down the slope toward the light, her submachine-gun
at his back.

As he walked he was building up a strength and speed no human ought to
possess.

One of the sentries pacing through the garden came to a halt. His
rifle swung up, and the voice was a hysterical yammer: "Who goes?"

"It's me, Buck," cried Elena. "Don't get trigger-happy. I'm bringing
in the prisoner."

"Huh?"

Dalgetty shuffled into the light and stood slumped, letting his jaw
hang slack as if he were near falling with weariness.

"You _got_ him!" The goon sprang forward.

"Don't holler," said Elena. "I got this one, all right, but there are
others. You keep on your beat. I got his weapons from him. He's
harmless now. Is Mr. Bancroft in the house?"

"Yeah, yeah--sure." The heavy face peered at Dalgetty with more than a
tinge of fear. "But lemme go along. Yuh know what he done last time."

"Stay on your post!" she snapped. "You've got your orders. I can
handle him."

VIII

It might not have worked on most men but these goons were not very
bright. The guard nodded, gulped and resumed his pacing. Dalgetty
walked on up the path toward the house.

A man at the door lifted his rifle. "Halt, there! I'll have to call
Mr. Bancroft first." The sentry went inside and thumbed an intercom
switch.

Dalgetty, poised in a nervous tautness that could explode into
physical strength, felt a clutch of fear. The whole thing was so
fiendishly uncertain--anything could happen.

Bancroft's voice drifted out. "That you, Elena? Good work, girl! How'd
you do it?" The warmth in his tone, under the excitement, made
Dalgetty wonder briefly just what the relationship between those two
had been.

"I'll tell you upstairs, Tom," she answered. "This is too big for
anyone else to hear. But keep the patrols going. There are more like
this creature around the island."

Dalgetty could imagine the primitive shudder in Thomas Bancroft,
instinct from ages when the night was prowling terror about a tiny
circle of fire. "All right. If you're sure he won't--"

"I've got him well cover