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Updated: May 9, 2025
Only a fan-shaped fin projected from the stern like the tail of a fish. The cockpit, if such it could be called, was tiny, just ample enough to accommodate the Mercutian's girth. The sunlight dazzled back from a bewildering jumble of tiny lenses inset in the instrument board. Arranged along the hull, on either side, were larger disks of the same quartz-like material.
There was the sound of a struggle, a sharp cry, followed by a dull thud. Hilary was out through the door like a flash, down the corridor to the head of the stairs with automatic extended. The monster Mercutian was coming heavily up the treads. They saw each other simultaneously. The Mercutian's pink eyes turned a vicious red; the tube dangling in his hand jerked sharply up.
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