ossible without the
aid of his four assistants. The brains even now were dying. The choice
was: bodies of isuanacs or death for the brains. The scientist and the
adventurer had chosen.

Circumstances had required their use. Ku Sui's attempt to kill the
brains, thus inflicting a time limit: the presence of the band of
isuanacs near the laboratory; each circumstance with a long train of
other, minor ones behind it. Chance or Fate--whatever it is--whether
predetermined or accidental--men must wonder at its working, and know
awe from its patterns and results. Seldom, certainly, was there a
pattern more strange than this now being worked out in the laboratory
of Master Scientist Eliot Leithgow.

The bodies lay there, washed, shaved and swathed in customary loose
operating garments: globules of etheloid dropped steadily down into
the breathing cones, of hunchback, living skeleton, twisted giant,
dwarf and robot-coolie. One by one the isuanacs dropped with the
falling of the etheloid into unconsciousness--and that was their
farewell to the brains, each one debauched either by isuan-drug or
skill of genius, that they had known.

And movement began in the laboratory. White-clothed figures, masked
and capped, used gleaming instruments in their gloved hands; and all
the figures were mute--mute from their great concentration on the
delicate work in progress--or mute from horror that would not die....

* * * * *

So began the ordeal.

Of its details, Hawk Carse knew little. They were not of his world.
Only for the first half-hour could he follow intelligently what was
being done. He too had put on a white robe, as had Ban Wilson and
Friday; and he stood at one side of the room, a silent, intently
watching figure, with the two other men of action, Ban and the Negro,
while the rest moved in a kind of rhythm. The center-piece was the
black-garbed Ku Sui, moving from this table to that, slim gloved hands
flying, pausing, flying again, steadying, concentrating on a detail,
once more sweeping forward. No more than single words came from him;
he and his assistants worked almost as a whole, in perfect sympathy
and coordination, and a constant stream of instruments flowed to him
and then away, their task done.

The first table, and then to the second, with one white figure staying
behind at the first, finishing off details of the work, left by the
master. The third table; the fourth; the fifth; and the