"Where is it? You are perhaps a leader of your world. I lead ours, and I'm going to master you now. Where is this hiding place?"
The thing suddenly laughed, a gruesome, eerie cackle. "You will know when it is too late. I think it is too late already."
"Too late for what?"
"To save your world. Doomed, your three worlds! Don't touch—me!"
It ended with a scream of apprehension as Nippor grasped the crooked little arm. "Tell us!"
"No!" It screamed again. "Let—me—go!"
"Tell us!" Nippor strengthened his squeezing grip. The thing was writhing, the thin ball of membrane palpitating, heaving. And suddenly it burst. Over all its purpled surface, blood came with a gush.
Nippor and Brayley staggered backward. The scream of the brain ended in a choking gurgle. The little legs and tiny body wilted under it; the round ball of membrane sank to the table. It rolled sidewise upon one arm and ear, and in a moment its palpitation ceased. A purple-red mass of blood, it lay deflated and flabby.