Thought: I have done this.

Lad-nar stepped cautiously toward the rocky ledge, fearful and hesitant. Then he bunched his huge muscles and leaped out into the full agony of the storm which crashed in futility about his massive form.

“One day Man will come and make friends with you, Lad-nar,” said Kettridge softly. “He will come down out of the sky and show you how to live on this world of yours so that you won’t have to hide.”

Kettridge sank down against the inner wall of the cave, suddenly too exhausted to stand.

He had won. He had redeemed himself—if only in his own mind. He had helped take away life from a race, but now—he had given life to a race.

He closed his eyes peacefully. Even the great blasts of blind lightning did not bother him as he rested. He knew Lad-nar had told his brothers.

He knew the ship would be coming for him.

Lad-nar came up the incline and saw the flitter streaking down, with lightning playing along its sides in phosphorescent glimmers.

Thought: Your brothers come for you!

He bounded across the scarred and seared rocks toward the cave.

Kettridge rose and stepped out into the rain and wind.

He ran a few steps, waving his arms in a signaling gesture. The flitter altered its course and headed for him, its speed increasing with great rapidity.

The lightning struck.

It seemed as though the bolt knew its target. It raced the flitter, sizzling and burning as it came. In a roar of light and fire it tore at Kettridge, lifting him high into the air and carrying him far from Lad-nar.

His body landed just outside the cave, blistered and charred but still struggling.

Thought: You have fallen! Rise, rise, rise! The Essence-Stealers…

The thoughts were hysterical, tearful, torn, and wanting. Had Lad-nar been able to shed tears, Kettridge knew he would have wept unashamedly. The old man lay sightless, his eyes gone, his senses altogether torn from him. The Essence ebbed.