He returned to the recording room. Ammaerln still breathed weakly. The memory recording had been completed; all that the dying man remembered of his long life was imprinted now in the silvery cylinder. It remained only to color-code the trace; that he would do on his return. His eye was caught by a small object still projecting from an aperture at the side of the high couch where he had wakened. It was his own memory-trace. So he himself had undergone the Change! He thrust the color banded cylinder into a gown pocket--then whirled at a sound. A nest of Hunters--the swarming globes of pale light used to track down criminals--clustered at the door; then they were upon him. Without a weapon, he was helpless. He must escape the ship--and quickly! While the suffocating horde pressed close, humming in their eagerness, he caught up the unconscious Ammaerln. The Hunters trailed him like a luminous streamer as he ran to the shuttle boat bay. Three shuttles lay in their cradles. He groped to a switch, his head swimming with the sulphurous reek of his attackers. Light flooded the bay, driving them back. He entered the lifeboat, placed the body on a cushioned couch. Perhaps he would find help for his friend below. It had been long since he had manned the controls of a vessel, but he had not forgotten. * * * * * The last of life ebbed from the injured man long before they reached the planetary surface. The boat settled gently and the lock cycled. He looked out at a vista of ragged forest. This was no civilized world. Only the landing-ring and the clearing around it showed the presence of man. There was a hollow in the earth by a square marker block at the eastern perimeter of the clearing. He carried his friend there and placed him in it, scraped earth over the body. He lingered for a moment, then he rose and turned back toward the shuttle boat.... * * * * * A dozen men, squat, bearded, wrapped in the shaggy hides of beasts, stood between him and the access ladder. The tallest among them shouted, raised a bronze sword threateningly. Others clustered at the ladder. One scrambled up, reached the top, disappeared into the boat. In a moment he reappeared at the opening and hurled down an armful of small bright objects of varied shapes and textures. Others clambered up to share the loot as the first man again vanished within the boat. But before the foremost had gained the entry the port closed, shutting off a terrified cry from within the shuttle boat. Men dropped from the ladder as it swung up. The boat rose slowly, angling toward the west, dwindling. The savages shrank back, awed. The man watched until the tiny blue light was lost against the sky. CHAPTER I The ad read: "Soldiers of fortune seeks companion in arms to share unusual adventure. Foster, Bos 19, Mayport."