n as we land," Lola said,
darkly, "and stick a pin into him."

They found the Engineering Office easily enough, in a snug camp well
outside a large city. They grounded the starship and went out on foot;
enjoying contact with solid ground. The Head Engineer was an Arpalone,
too--Engineers were not a separate race, but dwellers on a planet of
extremely high technology--but he did know anything about space-drives.
His specialty was rehabilitation; he was top boss of a rehab crew....

* * *

Then Lola pushed Garlock aside. Yes, the Ozobes came from space. He was
sure of it. Yes, they laid eggs in human bodies. Yes, they probably
stayed alive quite a while--or might, except for the rehab crew. No, he
didn't _know_ what would hatch out--he'd never let one live that long,
but what the hell else _could_ hatch except Ozobes? No, not one. Not one
single damn one. If just one ever did, on any world where he bossed the
job, he'd lose his job as boss and go to the mines for half a year....

"Ridiculous!" Lola snapped. "If Ozobes hatched, they couldn't possibly
have come from space. If they _did_ come from space, the adult form
would have to be something able to get back into space, some way or
other. _That_ is simple elementary biology. Don't you see that?"

He didn't see it. He didn't give a damn, either. It was none of his
business; he was a rehab man.

Lola ran back to the ship in disgust.

"Something else is even more ridiculous, and _is_ your business," James
told the Head Engineer. "Garlock and I are both engineers--top ones. We
know definitely that a one-hundred-percent clean-up on such a job as
this--millions--simply can't be done. Ever. Under any conditions. Are
you lying in your teeth or are you dumb enough to believe it yourself?"

"Neither one," the Engineer insisted, stubbornly. "I've wondered,
myself, at how I could get 'em all, but I always do--every time so far.
That's why they give me the big job. I'm good at it."

"Oh--Lola's right, Jim," Garlock said. "It's the adult form that
hatches; something so different they don't even recognize it. Something
able to get into space. Enough survivors to produce the next
generation."

"Sure. I'll tell Brownie--she'll be tickled."

"She'll be more than tickled--she'll want to hunt up somebody around
here with three brain cells working and give 'em an earful." Then, to
the Engineer, "Do you know how they rehab a planet that's been leveled