"Well, what _can_ we do?" muttered Sturgis tensely. The worm was still well below, but coming steadily up. They could see the little scarlet tips now, questing over the jagged edges. Behind was all humping redness. "We were very foolish--" Pritchard checked himself. "I was very foolish. I permitted us to be outmaneuvered. The one thing that monster doesn't want is for one of us to get back to the cruisers--" "I've been thinking," Sturgis cut in. "Why don't we empty all our flamer tanks along the ridge here, climb all the way to the top and then, as soon as it's almost there, spark the fuel and give it a good roasting?" Pritchard shook his head. "I thought of that. You forget how volatile that stuff is. By the time it gets there--no, I've got a better use for the flamers." He began unstrapping the tank from his shoulders. "Kemp, pass yours on down. No, hang on to it, just in case. Sturgis, you take my position and hold It off as long as you can--" He glanced at the gauge on the light plastic tank and shook his head grimly. "Okay, children, let's get going--to the top." The mountain wasn't really much of a mountain, being only some five hundred feet high. Their first frantic scramble up the ridge had carried them almost two-thirds of the way. Behind them, the worm was flowing steadily upward, like a river of blood, along the narrow ridge. "Kemp," panted Pritchard as the short young man finally and painfully inched over the knife-edged peak. Kemp turned, stretching out a hand to Cornelia to help her up and over. "Yes?" "I'm putting this girl in your charge. She's your responsibility--" "What are you going to do?" put in Cornelia quickly. Pritchard looked up into those gray-green eyes so intent upon him. A pang of regret stabbed through him. He was no longer seeing her sweet-lined body. Here was a girl he could have ridden the starways with. A person with enough courage and resource to have held her own in this killer-infested Eden. "I'm taking a powder, as they used to say back on good old Terra. I'm gambling. Gambling that I can get back to the one cruiser that hasn't burnt up all its wiring, and call the ship." He slapped the leg-pocket of his breeches. Kemp nodded. The pocket contained a ready-packed emergency chute. * * * * * Cornelia shook her head slowly. "You'll never make it--" "He might," said Kemp. "I'll bet I can," said Pritchard. "I've got to." "The One will get you," she said. "It can get into one of those things easily. It'll take only a little of Its digestive juice...." Her face puckered and those emerald eyes shone brighter, but she fought for and regained control. "So?" Pritchard smiled. "You'll be well rid, then, of that notorious big-game hunter, Elmer Pritchard." "I don't want to be rid of him," she said softly. "I want him with me--at the end." He bowed. "Thank you, Miss Boyce." "Call me Cornelia, please."