“_I didn’t mention Earth_,” thought Kayin. Aloud, he said patiently, “You are mistaken. Your experiments are not new, and it is known--” he did not say where it was known--“it is known that they can lead to disaster. They can produce microorganisms of a virulence never before seen here.” “You’re just imagining things!” “I do not imagine. At this period, your discovery is of too treacherous a nature to be used.” Blayson was silent, and Kayin hoped that he was thinking of something else than breaking down the door. “You will not be the first, Mr. Blayson, to have suppressed a discovery of so great significance.” “I don’t believe you. Open the door.” “In a moment. But think of what I have said.” “Open the door.” “Half a moment now. You do not care to listen further?” A policeman growled, “He’s stalling. We’ll break it open.” “No need for that,” said Kayin. “I shall come out. Perhaps if I speak to you face to face you will believe me.” He removed the jacket and shirt and tie to which he had become so accustomed these past few months. He stretched his muscles freely, and smiled a bitter smile to himself. He said, “The door opens outward. Please give room.” He turned the key in the lock, and slammed the door open. Then he leaped forward. He could hear the shouts of horror, he could see them standing there petrified. It was a reaction that he had counted on. A policeman fired his revolver, but so excitedly that every bullet missed, while he yelled, “It’s not human. It’s not human!” The gravity was a little too great here for him to do any real flying, but at least his wings, unfolded at last, could take him high into the air in the great room, terrifying and confusing them. As he slowly floated down, he could see them racing around madly. He headed for the door to an outer room. A policeman who was standing in his path could not move his bulk out of the way in time. Kayin crashed into him and sent him sprawling. Then, from behind him, another policeman aimed a blow with the butt of his gun. With his extra eyes Kayin saw what was happening, and a blow of his great wings knocked the policeman down. Then he was running down the corridor, using his wings to give him a little extra speed. The door through which he had just come swung open again, and a bullet sang past him, tearing into the non-fleshy part of his wing. He hardly felt it. He was outside. The noise of the shooting had spread the alarm. Another policeman came running, took one look at him, closed his eyes, and swayed there. Kayin seized the man’s own club and hit him over the head with it. He dragged the unconscious body into a deep, clean, concrete-lined pit that had been reserved for some of the dangerously radioactive byproduct that he was now sure they would never make. In the dark of the pit, he stripped the policeman of the uniform. The man was broad across the shoulders, and the uniform fitted nicely across Kayin’s wings.