I dived for the metal knob that controlled the green beam. With one sweep of my hand, I set it spinning.
The crystal swiveled in swift coordination. The cone of light flashed in a great, swooping arc.
And everywhere its radiance touched the Kel, there was the sound, the sudden hissing. Bulbous bodies went limp. Pseudopodal tissue oozed away like oil on pavement.
Grimly, I spun the knob the other way—hunting down my foes, driving them to cover.
Then—quite suddenly, it seemed—no more Kel were visible. I stood in complete command of the control room of an alien globeship.
I smiled a little at that time, I think—a slow, contemplative smile, with nothing that could be spoken of as humor in it.
After that, tight-lipped, I called, "Celeste! Get up here!"
Hollow-eyed, tousle-headed, she came out from behind the ridge where she'd been hiding.
Not giving her a chance to speak, I said, "These things, the Kel—how do they tell you what they want?"
"How?"—She moved uncertainly "It's—well, one of them—becomes like me. We talk. Then—"