He was in a crater—vast, with distant jagged walls that marched like a great ramp. It was lighted by a bluish radiance that came from a mound in the crater's center—a strange mound, glistening and heaving very slowly.
The bobbing figures ahead paused. Kenworth saw the elongated silhouette of the Martian, saw Arn's bulky body, the slim form of Thona. He came up with them, stopped. The last traces of the fog lifted from his mind.
He caught Thona in his arms, fearful that she might race away again. The Martian pointed, and Arn growled an oath.
The racing form of the octan was still moving swiftly across the crater's floor toward the glistening knoll. It raced onward, flung itself on the mound—and was engulfed! It disappeared in the shining, radiant surface. The blue glow brightened briefly, faded again.
Kenworth heard the Raider cursing in a dull, hopeless monotone.
Arn said, with a curious catch in his gruff voice, "What—is that thing?"
The Raider said, "Don't you remember the Korla crater? On Mars?"
Arn paled beneath his space-burn. He said,, "But this creature"
"Is larger. Yes. A hundred times larger. But it's the same kind of being."
"What do you mean?" Kenworth broke in. "Do you know what that—creature—is?"
As the Raider glanced at him Kenworth realized that the man was an enemy, and stepped back involuntarily. But the other made no hostile move.
"I know," the Raider said. "Yes. And I know we'll all be dead very shortly." He shrugged. "I saw one of these once in a Martian crater. It's alive—but a life-form entirely alien to us. It's unicellular. I had a scientist in my crew then, and he explained it to me. Said it might have come on—or in—a meteorite, as the crater seemed to indicate. Or it might have evolved . . . it's an ameba."
Arn said slowly, "There wasn't a living thing—nothing but plants and trees—for miles around the Korla crater."
"And that thing was small—very small. Yet we felt its influence."
"Telepathy!" Kenworth said. "It sent out thought-impulses to capture us . . . but an ameba?"
"Yes. It's a unicellular creature—Janna told me—an alien life-form, developed along lines unfamiliar to us. It has no need to seek food—it draws food to it by means of its powerful thought-commands. Vakko!"
But the Martian was gone—racing across the creater floor toward the glistening mound. They watched, fascinated, as Vakko approached the creature—and was engulfed. A thin scream came to them. Then silence.
"What are we waking for?" Kenworth snapped. "Come on!"
But he did not move. Astonishment showed on his face.
The Raider laughed grimly. "Because we can't get away. I've been trying . . . the thing's holding us with its thought-commands—dragging us to it, one by one!"
Desperately Kenworth struggled. He could move, he found, but only in one direction—toward the shining blue mound. He could almost feel the thought-commands pressing a blanket upon his brain, slowing his movements, pulling at him—like a snake holding a bird with its hypnotic glare, drawing it closer to the gleaming fangs!
He felt Thona move, struggle to escape from his arms. He said sharply, "Thona!"
