Six men; six FedGov Security workers gone astray. From Chief Controller Alfred Kruze straight down to the lowly Sigman Third the Kel had trapped in Communications. And in between those two extremes, in the middle, stood Special Agent Mark Traynor. Always, always in the middle. Even here, even now, aboard this Kel globeship. A sudden clank of metal cut through my introspections. A hatch swung open high overhead. Taut silence fell over our little group. Fearfully, we stared up at the aperture. Now a slim rod thrust down through the opening, drill-like. In two seconds it reached and anchored tight against the floor, like an axis for the tiny world that was this room. Another second, and a bulbous shape slid down the rod. In the radiance, it was as colorless and formless as a red-washed lump of putty. A giant lump, as a hogshead. Then, as it reached the floor, a change took place. Swiftly, surely, it reshaped itself, drawing taller and thinner and taking on new contours. A man came into being--a tall gawky man, twin of the Sigman Third. "Here, fellow!" Grinning mirthlessly, he stepped towards the sigman. "Come along, now. Don't be shy!" Panic flared in the sigman's eyes. Gangling and clumsy, he backed away. But the quarters here were too cramped for maneuvering. In a rush, the man's Kel duplicate closed in. "Now, wait a minute, fellow--" The sigman tripped over his own feet and started to fall. Like lightning, the Kel had an arm about him. "Here, now, fellow--" But in the rush, the arm turned out to be a tentacle instead. The sigman let out a wild yell. Promptly, his _doppelganger's_ head turned into a tentacle also and, whipping round its victim, pinned arms to sides. * * * * * Flailing, screaming, struggling. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the sigman was dragged back to the rod, while we other humans all stood there frozen--paralyzed; unable to speak, unable to move. Only then, suddenly, I couldn't stand it any more. With a yell of my own, and a curse and a snarl, I lunged into the fray. Tearing, clawing, I fought to free the sigman. For a moment, it almost seemed I'd turned the tide. But then, with a sudden shift, the Kel whirled on me. The sigman fell forgotten and it was I, not he, who was beset. Spongy, yielding pseudo-flesh pressed in upon me. Thin tendrils of it touched and clutched me, leech-like. Long tentacles encircled and constricted. I found myself battling for my very breath. Mercilessly, the creature dragged me to the rod, the axis of the crimson room. Pulpy protrusions wrapped around the metal. I felt the shaft begin to vibrate. With a high, whining sound, it let go of the floor and lifted Kel and me alike into the air. The sphere's dome, the ceiling arc, rushed in upon me. As from afar, I glimpsed the strain-straut, uptilted faces of the other prisoners below.