made my own activator long ago, and done
some visiting on the closed worlds before this. Not that they'd have
kept me from getting bored for long, but yours looks as if it's going to
be slightly amusing, at least."

A struggle showed in Ray's face. Farmer saw insulted anger, hurt pride,
a desire to brag about his gadgetry, a question about Garf's last words,
and a caution that was not too far from fear. John Andrew had stopped
trying to hide his own fear, and though he had plenty of questions of
his own, he was mainly concerned with looking for a means of escape.

Garf was rising again, looking impatient. Ray reached a decision, said
"Go to hell!", and turned his back on the fishman. Garf looked
astonished, then angry, and raised a hand. Ray jumped, not very far
because of the heavy diving suit, stumbled on oddly twisted legs, and
collapsed on the deck, writhing, moaning, and turning red in the face.
The diving helmet clattered on the planks.

Farmer got mad. He started to charge across the deck at Garf, but his
own feet went out from under him and he landed flat on his nose. There
were waves of fire chasing each other around his body, and his stomach
was trying to turn itself inside out.

* * * * *

As instantaneously as it had come, the pain left him. It left him weak
and quivering, and John Andrew Farmer lay on his back waiting for his
strength to seep back. As the red haze drifted from before his eyes, he
realized that the launch had acquired another occupant.

In appearance, she could easily have been Garf's sister--or his wife.
Her figure was lithe and nicely curved. Her scales stopped in
eye-catching points just above her distinctly mammalian bosom; from
there on up she looked almost completely human. She wasn't wearing
anything either. The over-all effect was oddly beautiful. Farmer blushed
hotly, and tried to keep his eyes on her face.

Not that it made any difference to her. She ignored everyone and
everything but the fishman. Glaring at him angrily, she snapped out his
name in an icy voice. "Garf!"

"Dor!"

Garf was a changed fishman; he looked faintly frightened, moderately
worried, and definitely embarrassed. This passed, and he started to
smile in a placating manner.

"Garf!" Dor snapped again. She followed it up, this time, with a string
of intricate, foreign-sounding words that even Farmer could tell were
hot and stinging.

The fishman backed away. He seemed t