"I can try. Maybe a threat to use the solar blasters on him will do the trick." He really didn't think so, recalling the way the black being had sidestepped the bolts before; but it was their only hope. He pulled his two guns and turned; stopped short, staring. The black creature was coming down the ramp, slithering his great bulk toward them. He ignored them, heading directly toward the leaden box. Irgi lifted the leaden casket in three of his rippling tentacles, balancing it. He moved toward the spaceship, thrust the box through the open door. Emerson frowned. He went to the thing, touching it and looking upward into its eyes. The thing looked down at Emerson unblinking. It pointed to the transparent globe above, then patted Emerson on his wrist with a force that nearly snapped it. "He's going to open the globe for us. He's going to set us free!" * * * * * Irgi watched the ship twinkle to a glittering dot high in the heavens. Sadly he turned and moved back along the empty corridors, once again alone. He wished they were still here, even though he never could understand them. At least they were beings who moved, and talked among themselves, showed emotions. But what a strange world they came from! A world where heroes were worshipped, where tall strong statues were built to the great men of their race. Irgi liked that idea, though it was foreign to Urg. He rather thought there would be a statue to him, there on that planet called Earth. Yes, for the beings would tell how Irgi helped them, how he gave them the white block that would save them from extinction, even though it meant his own death, eventually. Irgi was happy. There was no doubt of it. There would be a fine statue to him on that distant planet. Irgi, savior of the race called men. A hero to mankind, to be worshipped. He wished wistfully that he could have been there to see it. But he was afraid of unleashing those creatures' terror. They might even have done something rash to themselves, if he had crowded his bulk into the spacecraft. No, it was better this way. * * * * * And in the spaceship, Emerson and Mussdorf and Nichols squatted over the leaden casket, commenting on it, copying the alien symbols and designs for study. Emerson frowned thoughtfully, choosing his words. "As near as I can judge, it's a form of atomic bombardment of matter. Suppose its rate of vibration is adjusted to matter _a_. Anything other than matter _a_, such as foreign substance _b_, is hit so swiftly and so often by those hurtling atoms that they simply wipe it out of existence.