"No thanks, sir," said Bob, so swiftly that Jana laughed. "I'd rather fall out an airlock in hyperspace." * * * * * "Well, here's what we do to get rid of this thing, then," said Jerry. "Since it assumes a form that's the least likely to be harmed by whatever presence stimulates its mimetic senses, we'll have to trick it. Before this thing decomposes too far, rig it up with an electrical charge, and stimulate its nerve-centers artificially. That ought to give you an accurate microtape of its life-pulse. Then hook the tape to a scanner-beam, and _send_ the life-pulse into the mine-area. When the fellows of this creature react to it, they'll assume the safest possible form: their own." "I get you, sir!" said Bob. "Then all the miners have to do is see it for what it is, and shoot it." Jerry nodded. "It'll mean all miners will have to go armed for awhile. But that's better than getting eaten alive by one of these." "You sure their presence won't trigger the thing's mimetic power?" asked Bob, uneasily. "Not if you give full power to the scanner-beam," Jerry replied. "It'll muffle their life-pulse radiations under the brunt of the artificial one." "Good enough, sir," said Bob. "I'll rig it right away." Jerry shook his head. "No need. You could use some rest, I'm sure. The morning'll be soon enough. Meantime, you can see this young lady home. The rest of you," he said to the hovering crewmen, "are dismissed, too." The men, eager to be away from the thing, saluted smartly and hurried out of the solarium, buzzing with wordy relief. Jana paused a moment, staring at the creature whose strange powers had destroyed her father. Then she turned to Bob. "I think I'll go to Jim's place," she said. "I want him to know." She moved her gaze to Jerry. "I owe you a lot," she said. "We all owe you a lot." Embarrassed by the warmth of her praise, Jerry could only mumble something diffident and look the other way. He was taken quite by surprise by the pressure of cool moist lips against the side of his face. When he looked back at the pair, Bob and Jana were on their way out the door. Only when he heard the elevator doors at the end of the corridor close behind them did he move to the still-warm corpse of his onetime adversary, with a look of deepest compassion on his face. "Well," he said gently, "you've lost. The planet goes back to the invaders. Once again, Earth has successfully obliterated the opposition." He reached out a hand and touched the hulking thing on the floor. "Good-by," he said. "And I'm sorry." Jerry Norcriss wasn't thinking about the deadliness of the thing, nor of the deaths of the hapless miners, nor of the billions of dollars he'd saved the investors holding Praesodynimium stock. He was thinking of a voice that--even unintelligently, even in the course of deception--had said, "Poor Jerry. Rest.... Relax. You're safe.... Secure...."