Rahll tensed when he felt the other, larger impulse that he had first felt rise up again. The impulse was far too huge to absorb; and, furthermore, there was something about it that almost repelled Rahll. It was impulse, yes, but it was a different kind of impulse, of a type Rahll had not run across before. If he had been strong enough he could have consumed it, but he was not sure that he would have wanted to.
He steeled himself against the overpowering sense of the presence of that impulse, and carefully searched out the other, smaller one. When he found it, he began to think. Certainly this being's impulse had picked up the pattern which Rahll was following; therefore this being would be on his guard against Rahll's simulations of his environment. Rahll had to sneak under that guard, carefully, subtly, in as unnoticeable a way as possible.
He felt that he could absorb two channels of impulse this time. He picked the two, and began to weave rhythmically in thought.
Brenner sat back in his chair. He was ready for the thing, whatever it was. It would not creep under his defenses. Nothing it could do, no illusion it could form, would take him in. He would not allow it to. He could not allow it to; for patterns had been invoked in his mind that suggested what the creature would do with the power derived from Brenner's impulse if it ever absorbed it all; patterns which pictured the absorption of all life on other worlds, and a single great pattern of electrical current crisscrossing in spiderweb fashion throughout the universe; a strong, unbreakable chain of intelligence, sated with the impulse of every fish, bird, insect, and man in existence. Brenner suppressed a shudder. What he was up against might be too much for him to handle....
No. He had to handle it. For Barbara's sake. For Hale's sake. For the sake of all those men back at Base, who would be the creature's next prey if it destroyed Brenner.
Suddenly there was a clanking noise. Brenner stiffened, for he did not hear the sound with his useless ears; it formed within his mind. The gruff, temper-tinged voice he heard came from within his mind, too; "Brenner, you damned fool. I knew you'd get yourself into a fix like this. Our best craft, too." Brenner whirled around.
The tall, heavy-set figure of Hale stood by the airlock, smiling.
Brenner frowned. The alien must be a complete fool; Brenner would never accept a bogus Captain Hale where Captain Hale could not be.
Hale's figure strode forward, saying, with that fixed smile on its face, "I always thought you'd wind up like this: lost in deep space, with nothing around you. Have you looked at that radio? Sure it's not what's on the blink? Oh, that's right, you wouldn't be able to hear it even if it was in good shape," the words flowed through Brenner's head, "wouldn't be able to. Have a cigar, while you stand there thinking. You're going to have to think hard to get out of this one, Brenner. Mighty blasted hard." And a deep chuckle shook Brenner's skull as the figure of Hale opened its mouth to laugh—and opened it, grotesquely, a trifle too far for a genuine human mouth to go.