"Don't you realize what they've been talking about?" Steve shouted his rage. "They'll _wear_ us, like clothing. They'll get inside our brains and share our bodies with us, like they've done with all these other creatures. Did you think these monsters were all native to Uashalume? I wouldn't be surprised if none of them was. They've all been taken, as we have, from their own worlds. They all live here--as clothing. Maybe the masters don't have physical form at all, maybe they're just mental essence. "And all they want to do is run the gamut of our emotions. They know how to play with emotions, too. Remember the Ganymede-fear, Kevin?" "I remember, boy." Kevin still held him. "Well, that was their work. Probably, Ganymede was their base in our Solar System, although it's possible they first got into LeClarc's brain on Mercury. And Kevin, all those theories you had were right!" "Yes, I know. And sub-space--" "The hell with that. They're taking Teejay and they may take all of us and spread us out all over the face of this world. We'll never find each other. We'll--" "You're next, Steve Stedman." It was Charlie's voice, and Steve felt Kevin release him with a word of warning, felt himself drawn to the front of the block. Somehow, he found he was incredibly objective as the bidding began. He was claimed for one hundred fifty _char_ and led away by a creature with a stilt-like body and six arms. Or rather, he thought, that was the garment. But the real creature--the mental entity within it--had grown tired of last year's cloak, and Steve was to take its place. Moments later, Steve's buyer whisked him away in a smaller version of the bus that had taken the _Frank Buck_'s crew to the bazaar. On the outskirts of the city, the car stopped. Steve climbed out, followed the stilt-figure up a flight of stairs as a round, fat, furry creature bounced up behind him with a weapon. Inside, the place looked like a laboratory. And at the center of the room squatted a great round tank, large enough to hold a man. A green liquid boiled within it, but somehow Steve got the impression of boiling without much heat. He became absorbed in the idea, reached up over the lip of the tank to verify it on a thoroughly peculiar impulse. Something struck him from behind. He staggered to his knees and tried to keep his eyes opened. The hard stone floor slammed against his face as he lost consciousness. * * * * * He was floating, and when he could see again, a murky green haze surrounded him. _Floating, completely submerged!_ He felt no desire to breathe. He did not have to breathe at all. It was as if his life had been suspended completely, as if there was no need for his body to carry out its normal functions. But he wasn't dead. He could open his eyes and stare at the green liquid, and he could think.