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The runaway had changed again-a semi-involuntary defense mechanism triggered
off by the shapes of its pursuers-into a vaguely Earth human form. It ran
soggily along the corridor on legs which were too rubbery and which bent in
the wrong places, and the scaly, dun-colored tegument it had worn in the AUGL
tank was twitching and writhing and smoothing out into the pink and white of
flesh and medical tunic. Conway could look on the most alien beings imaginable
suffering from the most horrible maladies without inward distress, but the
sight of the SRTT trying to become a human being as it ran made him fight to
retain his lunch.
A sudden sideways dash into an MSVK corridor took them unawares and resulted
in a kicking, floundering pile-up of pursuers beyond the inner seal of the
connecting lock. The MSVK life-forms were bi-pedal, vaguely stork-like beings
who required an extremely low gravity pull, and the DBDGs like Conway could
not adjust to it immediately. But while Conway was still slowly falling all
over the place the Monitors' space training enabled them to find their feet
quickly. The SRTT was headed off into the oxygen section again.
It had been a bad few minutes while it lasted, Conway thought with relief,
because the dim lighting and the opacity of the fog which the MSVKs called an
atmosphere would have made the SRTT difficult to find if it had been lost to
sight. If that had happened at this stage. . . Well, Conway preferred not to
think about that.
But the DBLF recreation room was only minutes away now, and the SRTT was
heading straight for it. The being was changing again, into something low and
heavy which was moving on all fours. It seemed to be drawing itself in,
condensing, and there was a suggestion of a carapace forming. It was still in
that condition when two Monitors, yelling and waving their arms wildly, dashed
suddenly out of an intersection and stampeded it into the corridor which
contained the recreation room .
... And found it empty!
Conway swore luridly. There should have been half a dozen Monitors strung
across that corridor to bar its way, but he had made such good time getting
here that they were not in position yet. They were probably still inside the
rec room placing their equipment, and the SRTT would go right past the
doorway.
But he had not counted on the quick mind and even more agile body of
Prilicla. His assistant must have realized the position in the same instant
that he did. The little GLNO ran clicking down the corridor, rapidly
overtaking the
SRTT, then swinging up onto the ceiling until it had passed the runaway before
dropping back. Conway tried to yell a warning, tried to shout that a fragile
GLNO had no chance of heading off a being who was now the characteristics of
an outsize and highly mobile armored crab, and that Prilicla was committing
suicide. Then he saw what his assistant was aiming at.
There was a powered stretcher-carrier in its alcove about thirty feet ahead of
the fleeing SRTT. He saw Prilicla skid to a halt beside it, hit the starter,
then charge on. Prilicla was not being stupidly brave, it was being brainy and
fast which was much better in these circumstances.
The stretcher-carrier, uncontrolled, lurched into motion and went wobbling
across the corridor-right into the path of the charging SRTT. There was a
metallic crash and a burst of dense yellow and black smoke as its heavy
batteries shattered and shorted across. Before the fans could quite clear the
air the Corpsmen were able to work around the stunned and nearly motionless
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runaway and herd it into the recreation room.
A few minutes later a Monitor officer approached Conway. He gave a jerk of his
head which indicated the weird assortment of gadgetry which had been rushed to
the compartment only minutes ago and which lay in neat piles around the room,
and included the green-clad men ranged solidly against the walls-all facing
toward the center of the big compartment where the SRTT rotated slowly in the
exact center of the floor, seeking a way of escape. Quite obviously he was
eaten up with curiosity, but his tone was carefully casual as he said, "Dr.
Conway, I
believe? Well, Doctor, what do you want us to do now?"
Conway moistened his lips. Up to now he had not thought much about this
moment-he had thought that it would be easy to do this because the young SRTT
had been such a menace to the hospital in general and caused so much trouble
in his own section in particular. But now he was beginning to feel sorry for
it. It was, after all, only a kid who had been sent out of control by a
combination of grief, ignorance and panic. If this thing did not turn out
right...
He shook off the feelings of doubt and inadequacy and said harshly, "You see
that beastie in the middle of the room. I want it scared to death."
He had to elaborate, of course, but the Monitors got the idea very quickly and
began using the equipment which had been sent them with great fervor and
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