It was a delicate operation, but he inserted the needle between two of the girl's vertebrae, felt her flinch away from him. She lay on the hard slab, quiescent, crying silently. "Won't hurt," he grunted, and ejected the exsrocain directly into the spinal fluid. Under his breath he counted: "One--two--three--four." He felt for her pulse, but there was no sign of a heart beat. He found the mirror in the kit, held it before her nostrils. The mirror didn't cloud. Sweat stood out on Jupiter's forehead. He wiped his palms on his thighs, lifted Tabak's wheat-blonde locks, exposing the small purple protuberance. It looked like a sea shell fastened to the back of her neck. His hand was trembling. He had to pause and get a grip on himself. Then he grasped the Anolyn, pulled it gently but firmly away from the girl's skin. For a moment he thought it was going to stick, then it slid free, the tentacles dangling like short, fine threads. He examined the creature minutely to make sure no faintest spark of consciousness remained. He felt weak with relief. The spinal anaesthesia had worked, putting the Anolyn into a state of suspended animation at the same time that it had the girl. Suddenly he could contain himself no longer. He hurled the creature down on the hard floor with all his strength, smashed it into a shapeless blob, ground it into paste with the butt of his carbine. VI It would be an hour before the effects of the anaesthesia wore off the Caligan girl. Jupiter prowled the laboratories, investigating the extent of the research performed by the Anolyn. It was crude, elementary. Only with the breeding of specialized forms had they had any starting successes and that had been a trial and error, hit and miss practice that had taken literally thousands of years. He was not impressed. Like all parasitic cultures, the Anolyn civilization was rotten at the core, degenerate. One ship of the Galactic Security Patrol could wipe them out of existence. He found clothes in a locker, a kilt for himself and a length of some black fabric which Tabak should be able to use in lieu of the boj. When he returned to the dissecting table he saw that the color was returning to the girl's cheeks. He unfastened her, sat down on a stool and waited. After a moment, Tabak's lids flickered. Her eyes opened; she gazed at him in sudden terror. "Feel the Anolyn," he said. She sat up. Her hand went hesitantly to the back of her slender neck. He saw the amazement spread over her face. "It's gone! You--How? How did you do it?" She slipped suddenly from the blood-stained dissecting table, seized his hand, held it to her forehead. She was half laughing, half crying. "You are the Wanderer! Forgive me for ever doubting. I'll atone for my sacrilege." She was hysterical with relief and awe and hope. "I'll never question your will again, never fail in obedience--" "Rubbish!" Jupiter regarded her startled expression with satisfaction.