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Then the cab set him down in front of the house, and Kane himself came running out to meet him.

“Come in, man,” be gasped, tugging at Mallon’s sleeve.

“What’s up?”

“He’s finished whatever it was he was making. Now he’s just standing there gloating, changing from form to form.” He shuddered. “It’s—horrible!”

Mallon looked at the man contemptuously, but allowed himself to be led into the house.

Kane half-dragged him down a narrow hall, then paused in front of a door. “He’s in there,” he whispered. “Are you all ready?” Mallon hefted his heavy little bag, and grinned tightly. “Lead on Kane,” he said.

The little man cautiously opened the door, let Mallon through, and then followed, shutting the door behind him. He pointed to a man in evening dress standing in the middle of the floor. “There he is,” he said tremulously.

Mallon looked at him, then at the man in evening clothes. “This is the ’demon’ ?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!” cried Kane. “He’s used this form before—he changes from one to another; hundreds of them …” He broke off and stepped behind Mallon as the man approached.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said, bowing slightly. There was a pitying expression on his large, full-cheeked face. “I am Rosmer Shelley, this gentleman’s partner. We have been co-experimenters for a number of years. Unfortunately, Peter here is subject to periodic attacks which—”

“Lies!” shouted Kane, coming out from behind Mallon. “Mr. Mallon, you mustn’t believe him. I swear to you that I am as sane as you, and that this—this is a demon!”

Shelley came closer. “My dear sir,” he said, “do I look like a demon?”

Mallon stepped back. “Keep away from me, both of you,” he ordered. “There’s a very simple way in which I can find out the truth of this matter. After it’s over, I’ll apologize to whichever of you is telling the truth.” He reached into his bag, took out a miniature brazier.

Kane moved back, stood watching from the door. Shelley made as if to move back also. “Stay where you are, please, Mr. Shelley,” Mallon said in a deadly voice.

Shelley looked disgusted. “But really, my dear boy,” he expostulated, “surely this is all unnecessary? If you will only take the trouble to ask Peter a few simple questions, I’m sure you can save your time and mine.”

Mallon had poured a little black powder into the brazier. Now he lit a match, tossed it in and stepped back.

Crash!

THE brazier was tumbled to the carpet, its glowing powder scattered to the four corners of the room. Shelley stood over it, hands outstretched as if in benediction. He looked at Mallon, smiled gently, and changed shape.

Mallon heard Kane shriek and run out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Well,” boomed the demon, stretching his talons, “you have found out my little secret.” He came forward smiling not pleasantly. Mallon pulled a thin wand of impregnated myrtle out of his bag, waved it at the demon… “That’s far enough,” he said.

The demon brushed the slim wand casually aside; it crashed into splinters against the far wall. “You ignored my messenger; you annoyed me,” he said, coming closer.

Sweating, Mallon retreated. In a moment his shoulders were flat against the wall. The demon came on. “That was your mistake,” he said conversationally. “I intend to take over this little planet, and you shall be the first to be assimilated into my being.”

His face was growing before Mallon’s eyes; bigger, and bigger and bigger—not a face at all any more, but a cloud with features. With numbing fingers, Mallon fumbled in his pocket for the box of capsules. Desperately he clawed out a handful of the things, waited until he dared wait no longer for them to grow warm in his hand.

Then he flung them onto the floor, heard their brittle shells splinter open—and fought with every fibre of will to keep his’ head up,’ his eyes turned away from the growing, whispering horrors on the carpet at his feet. Just at the edge of his consciousness he could sense them growing, changing from unnameable form to unnameable form. He fought the compulsion-to look until his nerves turned to water; fought it while his knees crumpled under him.

And he heard the demon draw back. He heard him shriek in a high, unhuman voice; a wailing cry that dwindled abruptly and then was gone. The demon was gone. And, after a moment, the things that had come out of the capsules were gone, too. He heard their whispering die down and disappear.

He opened his eyes at last, and the room was empty. Drawing breath raggedly, he lurches over to the door, opened it, and staggered through.

Kane was there, waiting. “It’s gone,” said Mallon dully. “It won’t come back.” He slumped suddenly to the floor and leaned against the wall of the corridor, played out.

“Yes,” said Kane. “It’s gone, isn’t it?” Something in the tone of his voice made Mallon look up with a shudder of fear. Kane was bending over him. His shoulders slowly hunched under his coat. Under Mallon’s horrified gaze, the coat split; Kane’s body swelled upward and outward; his face grew and filled Mallon’s vision.

“It’s gone,” repeated Kane softly, “and now I am left. You have done what I was unable to do; you have removed my brother, who was my rival for possession of this Earth. For that I thank you, and I reward you.” His face kept on growing, huge, cloudlike. Tendrils of mist reached out for him; numbing, narcotic.

With the last, feeble flicker of his mind, Mallon knew that he had been a fool.