Engel spoke to him comfortingly. "Hold on, buddy, I'll get a doctor." He pushed his way through a gathering crowd to a telephone booth. As he stepped inside, he saw C. G. limp quickly to the subway stairs. By the time he had hurried back, the little fellow was gone. Puzzled, Engel reached for a hand railing to steady himself. He had lived a nightmare filled with obsessed men who dreaded blue-skinned aliens from a distant world! He touched something sticky and realized the bleeding C. G. must have clung to the railing as he descended. Then he suddenly hoped he was mistaken. The dark blotch on his fingers could be wet paint. It had to be. It was blue....