Besides, without a pilot, he'd never get off the place.

h.e.l.lman struggled through two more rooms on trembling legs and then collapsed in front of a third.

"Is that you, h.e.l.lman?" he heard Casker ask, from the other side of the door.

"You all right?" h.e.l.lman managed to gasp.

"Haven't much room in here," Casker said, "but the Plugger's stopped growing. h.e.l.lman, get me out of here!"

h.e.l.lman lay on the floor panting. "Moment," he said.

"Moment, h.e.l.l!" Casker shouted. "Get me out. I've found water!"

"What? How?"

"Get me out of here!"

h.e.l.lman tried to stand up, but his legs weren't cooperating. "What happened?" he asked.

"When I saw that glob filling the room, I figured I'd try to start up the Super Custom Transport. Thought maybe it could knock down the door and get me out. So I pumped it full of high-gain Integor fuel."

"Yes?" h.e.l.lman said, still trying to get his legs under control.

"That Super Custom Transport is an animal, h.e.l.lman! And the Integor fuel is water! Now get me out!"

h.e.l.lman lay back with a contented sigh. If he had had a little more time, he would have worked out the whole thing himself, by pure logic.

But it was all very apparent now. The most efficient machine to go over those vertical, razor-sharp mountains would be an animal, probably with retractable suckers. It was kept in hibernation between trips; and if it drank water, the other products designed for it would be palatable, too. Of course they still didn't know much about the late inhabitants, but undoubtedly....

"Burn down that door!" Casker shrieked, his voice breaking.

h.e.l.lman was pondering the irony of it all. If one man's meat--_and_ his poison--are your poison, then try eating something else. So simple, really.

But there was one thing that still bothered him.

"How did you know it was an Earth-type animal?" he asked.

"Its breath, stupid! It inhales and exhales and smells as if it's eaten onions!" There was a sound of cans falling and bottles shattering. "Now hurry!"

"What's wrong?" h.e.l.lman asked, finally getting to his feet and poising the burner.

"The Custom Super Transport. It's got me cornered behind a pile of cases. h.e.l.lman, it seems to think that I'm _its_ meat!"

Broiled with the burner--well done for h.e.l.lman, medium rare for Casker--it was their meat, with enough left over for the trip back to Calao.

--ROBERT SHECKLEY