wly, barely perceptibly, in the snow.
Mountains of powdery snow moved and settled. The spade-shaped head
pointed at Mayhem. The tongue protruded slowly, hung suspended, forked
and hideous, then slowly withdrew.

The neck moved again, ten feet long, sinuous. And faster.

Faster? Not really.

Mayhem was slowing down.

* * * * *

Then he saw Bartock and the girl.

They were close together. Bartock held her arm. Walking toward the
scout-ship, they were too far away and too close together for Mayhem to
fire. Bartock would know this and wouldn't heed any warning.

[Illustration: Mayhem was blocked. The gun was useless.]

So Mayhem didn't give any warning. He left the spine of rock and rushed
down through the snow toward the space-bound coffin.

A low rumble of sound broke the absolute stillness.

It was the monster, and now that his own hearing had slowed down, Mayhem
was able to hear the slower cycles of sound. How much time had really
passed? He didn't know. How much time did he have left before death came
swiftly and suddenly because he had been too long in his temporary body?
He didn't know that either. He sprinted toward the scout-ship. At least
it felt like he was sprinting. He didn't know how fast he was really
moving. But the sea-serpent creature was coming up behind him, faster.
No place near what would have been its normal apparent speed, but
faster. Mayhem, his breath coming raggedly through his mouth, ran as
fast as was feasible.

So did Bartock and the girl.

It was Bartock, spotting Mayhem on the run, who fired first. Mayhem
fell prone as the raw _zing_ of energy ripped past. The
sea-serpent-like-creature behind him bellowed.

And reared.

It didn't look like a sea-serpent any longer. It looked like a dinosaur,
with huge solid rear limbs, small forelimbs, a great head with an
enormous jaw--and speed.

Now it could really move.

Subjectively, time seemed normal to Mayhem. Your only basis was
subjective: time always seemed normal. But Mayhem knew, as he got up and
ran again, that he was now moving slower than the minute hand on a
clock. Slower ... as objective time, as measured in the solar system at
large, sped by.

He tripped as the creature came behind him. The only thing he could do
was prop up an elbow in the snow and fire. Raw energy ripped off the two
tiny forelimbs, but the creature didn't falter. It rushed by Mayhem,
almost crushing him with the hind l