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Updated: May 10, 2025
"He was seen. And pursued. But he got away easily, heading north. The island was searched, and the police were ready to start an inch-by-inch going over of the island two days later. But the Nipe hit and robbed a chemical supply house in northern Pennsylvania, killing two men, so the search was called off.
I knew you were good, and I knew you'd win, but I honestly expected you to be injured." Stanton looked down at his bandaged hands, and felt the ache of his broken rib and the blue bruise on his thigh. In spite of the way it looked, he had actually been hurt worse than the Nipe had. That boy was tough! "The trouble was that he couldn't adapt himself to fighting in a new way," he told Farnsworth.
As a port of shipment, I think it must yield to the new port, Nipe Bay, on the north coast. It is merely a bit of commercial logic, the question of a sixty-mile rail-haul as compared with a voyage around the end of the island. Santiago will not be wiped from the map, but I doubt its long continuance as the leading commercial centre of eastern Cuba.
It was known that the Nipe didn't stay around after he had struck; and, besides, the area was now full of armed men. So the curious came to look and to stare in revulsion at the neat pile of gnawed and bloody bones that had been the night watchman, carefully killed and eaten by the Nipe before he had opened the vault.
And that had been the end of any diplomatic relations between humanity and the Nipe. Since that time, he'd been on a rampage of robbery and murder. He was as callously indifferent to human life and property as a human being might be with the life and property of a cockroach.
The last pair propelled him off the floor. Stanton stepped back and let him have a right just below the jaw, where his throat would have been if he'd been human. The Nipe arced backwards in a half-somersault and landed flat on his back. Stanton backed up a little more, waiting, while the Nipe wriggled feebly for a moment. The Marquis of Queensbury should have lived to see this, he thought.
"No wonder our pet Nipe is so patient," Stanton said wonderingly. "I wonder what their individual life span is." "Not long, in comparison," said Yoritomo. "Perhaps no longer than our own, perhaps five hundred years. Considering their handicaps, they have done quite well. Quite well, indeed, for a race of illiterate cannibals." "How's that again?"
"'How did you kill it, Papa?" "'I walked up to it, bashed it on the noggin, and it died. That is the way to kill tigers." Yoritomo smiled. "It is also a good way to kill Nipes. Eh?" He took the towel and wiped Stanton's brow again. "The error," he continued, "was made when Papa Nipe generalized from one tiger to all tigers.
"If you put false data into the memory bank of a computer such as telling it that the square of two is five you cannot correct the error simply by telling it that the square of two is four. You must first remove the erroneous data, not so? "Very good. Then let us look at the Nipe race, wherever it was spawned in this universe.
On the other hand, they were obviously of a lower order than the Nipe, and that made the question even more puzzling. In the end, he decided to leave the thing here, for others of its kind to find. They would doubtless consume it properly. And he glanced at the sky and listened they would be here in time. There were aircraft coming. He would have to leave quickly.
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