At the stern rail Kort watched the cable come in, dripping steel curl itself over the drums. Finally the grapple broke the frothy surface of the sea. To it clung the lost net, and Kort felt a moment of amazed gratitude for that bit of luck. For once the _Mermaid_ had been fortunate. Ships sometimes spent hours in futile grappling. Tenders seized the net, spread it as the winch hauled in. It was nine tenths up when Kort, watching for anything that might jam the rollers, signaled the winch-man to stop. * * * * * The thing might have been a giant slug. Thick as a man's arm, it was so entangled in the net that any estimate of its length was sheer guesswork. One end tapered to a featureless snout, the other flattened to a broad, finned tail. Its color was a dingy, bloodless white. Kort had never seen anything like it before. "Get a trident, Simms!" he bawled over the fury of the storm, and the man obediently lifted one of the implements from its rack. Simultaneously a net tender climbed over the rail and, clinging to the mesh, lowered himself hand over hand. The man with the trident looked gravely on. Kort felt himself flush, yet hesitated to order the other man back. Possibly the thing in the net was familiar to the others, its disposal a simple matter which his interference might make difficult. The tender leaned down, chopped at the white monstrosity with a heavy knife. There was a solid _thunk_ of metal as the edge bit chain mesh. Kort would almost have sworn that the thing moved. It was incredible that the man could have missed it otherwise. Suddenly uneasy, Kort drew his electro-gun. With a grimace the tender leaned farther over, raised his knife again. Before it fell, before anyone could move or shout warning, the white trunk flashed out, magically freed itself from the net, coiled about the man, and in one convulsive movement vanished with him beneath the sea. There was a single sharp splash, muted by the drumming rain. Kort had not dared to fire. Incredulously he stared at the spot where the thing had been enmeshed an instant before. The undamaged net, slimy with the detritus of the sea, hung empty under the ship's stern. * * * * * It was still raining, but, as though some oceanic deity had accepted a living sacrifice, the _Mermaid's_ luck had changed. Nets came up laden with the _Molo Ivrum's_ rampant life. Sorters tossed the edible, bulbous _gwai_ upon conveyor belts for the cannery machines to clean and pack. The remainder of the catch was thrown back into the sea. The finless, two-mouthed _gwai_ alone was wanted for its incredible nutritive value, twice that of the finest synthetic foodstuffs, which had made this tiny denizen of Venusian seas a staple article of diet wherever supplies had to be taken in concentrated form.