A new form of life. A Thing, an Individual--the sole occupant of its world. My mind tried to encompass it. On Earth, every living creature at least seems to be, as Johnny expressed it, all in one piece. But why should that be exclusively necessary throughout the Universe? Here, on this little remote planetoid, was one of God's creations that was made wholly different. Johnny's voice went lower. "He--It--the Supreme One--it's got us all trapped. It's delighted--having something besides parts of itself to rule. You see? that's why it's been sending its parts--like its arms and legs--to make Bragg and the others lure young men and girls. To establish a human world, and the Supreme One will rule it." I understood it better now. That headless little thing in the overcoat had been watching Bragg--a moving part of the Supreme One, making Bragg do its bidding. And now Johnny was explaining that as though it were a giant electric eel, the headless Physical could emit from its own body a weird electronic discharge. That was what had shocked me into catalepsy. And it had thrown a barrage about itself, so that my bullet had been futile to hit it. "These Physicals," I was murmuring. "Can they hear you when you speak? Can they talk?" He nodded. "Yes. Subsidiary organs that operate for themselves when the main body is too remote." Again he shrugged hopelessly. "I guess we humans aren't capable of fully understanding--" * * * * * He checked himself suddenly. He and I were still standing by the little bull's-eye window. Behind us I heard a click. A doorslide to our cubby opened. I sucked in my breath with a gasp. One of the Physicals stood there. A little square, box-like thing mounted on two jointed legs, with flexible hinged feet, long and pointed. The light from an outside corridor was behind it, so that I could at first only see its outline in silhouette. As it stood, it seemed to click and a third leg came sliding down to support it like a tripod. Its arms, three on each side of its box-body, were waving like little tentacles. Ghastly little living thing. Its box-body was some two feet wide by three feet long, with perhaps a foot of thickness. The light gleamed on its top edge; the foot-thick surface there was level, smooth and shining, with rounded ends gruesomely to suggest a travesty of human shoulders. And then it spoke--a low, hollow, tonelessly mechanical voice. "You have recovered? You are the human called Tom Ralston?" English! Queerly intoned, but correct. Johnny nudged me. "Yes," I said. "That's who I am."