Norden grunted with pain. He staggered back, straight toward the sphere by the metal pot. A whistled warning had no effect. The momentum carried Norden crashing into the orange nucleus of energy. There was a blinding flash. A small pile of glowing ashes appeared on the floor. The whistle of the sphere stopped. It pulsed once. A feeble ray of heat lashed out toward Taylor, but the bolt halted in mid-air. A _plop_ cracked in Taylor's ear. The sphere disappeared like a bursting soap bubble. "Cap! Are you all right!" Masters appeared in the doorway behind Taylor. "Gosh!" His eyes settled on the pile of ashes, the remains of Norden. He turned to Taylor. "Are you all right, Cap?" Taylor nodded. "Where's the sphere?" asked Masters. "He died of frustration--or sorrow--over having killed the wrong man," Taylor said grimly. Taylor indicated the half-formed monster in the pot. "Now we've got to get rid of that one and all the unhatched spores." "If that metal pot hatches 'em, we will," said Masters. "We'll dump the metal." The undeveloped sphere made no move to launch a deadly bolt toward the men. Apparently at this stage of incubation the spheres were harmless. "Pember!" "Yes, sir!" the soldier appeared in the doorway, carrying his bayonetted gun. "Keep a lookout for other spheres. Masters and I are going to dump this metal pot." "Yes, sir!" An electric motor ordinarily dumped the pot into molds, but this motor, like everything else electrical in the plant, now was out of commission. Masters, however, found a block and tackle and rigged it to a beam above the pot. The hook he attached to the bottom of the pot. "Grab hold, Cap!" he said, taking the end of the rope. Taylor loosened his tunic and seized the rope. "Heave!" Masters chanted. The two men strained. Slowly the pot tilted. Pember, standing at a window, called out over his shoulder: "They're coming back!" Above the creak of the pulleys rose the murmuring whisper of the spheres. "Heave!" Both men joined in the rhythmic call, putting their weight on the rope. The pot tilted more. The half-formed sphere whistled loudly and the spheres circling over the plant answered. "Hurry!" Pember urged. "Heave!" chorused the men on the ropes. The pulleys creaked. The room suddenly blazed with a brilliant orange glow as a maddened sphere floated through the hole in the roof. It hung in the air, pulsating, scanning what was taking place below. "Heave!" cried the two men. The pot was at an angle. The hatching sphere screamed to the globe above. The floating sphere shrieked. Flame danced over its surface. "It--It's got--eyes!" Masters said, spacing his words with tugs on the ropes. "Don't look!" Taylor warned. "Heave!" Pember faced the sphere. He patted his Garand. "Give 'im hell, boy!"