differences in size, this sounded like a difficult thing to do. But the task was made easy by a fortunate circumstance. The building to which the guards conducted the two terrestrial prisoners faced on the same plaza, only a short distance away.
"What do you suppose is going to happen to us now?" Sullivan inquired when they were confined in a small cell.
"Judging from our surroundings, I should conclude that we are to be placed on exhibition for the edification of the curious populace," was Brink's reply. The place certainly did look like a museum or a menagerie. Encircling the curved, tapering walls of the building were a large number of cells like the one to which they had been assigned. In the wall facing toward the center of the hall, each of them had a large window of transparent material punctured with oval holes about the size of hen's eggs. Many strange beings were displayed in these cells. Most of them were alive, but a few of them were stuffed or mummified.
The middle of the room was occupied by a bewildering assortment of pipes and tubes and vessels of grotesque shapes, which looked as if they might be scientific equipment. They were separated from the rest of the room by a low railing. Between this and the cells, scores of the Titanian amoeba-men flowed from one exhibit to another, seeming to study the curiosities with comprehensive but eye-less wonder.
"Well," Brink remarked. "If we are supposed to be putting on a show, let's give them a song. I'll sing baritone and you carry the tenor." Thus they sang lustily:
Oh, Captain Jinks, the space marine
He drank a quart of gasoline;
And since that time he aint benzine—
He's now a piece-ful figh-tur
Drawing in long breaths, they were about to repeat this nonsensical ditty when they were astounded to hear a voice that was unmistabably human and unmistably feminine. "What-ho! You Earth-men! Who are you-all, anyhow?"
From the direction of the sound, Brink inferred that the invisible person who had spoken was in a cell only a few meters away from theirs.
"Good morning!" Brink cried. "My companion, who sings such a vibrant tenor, is Lieutenant James Sullivan of the Earth Republic Space Navy. My name is Captain Frank Brink. I suppose you must be one of the Valentine twins. Is your sister there with you?"
"Yes. We are both here," said two voices in unison.
"We were sent out to rescue you," Brink informed them. "So far we have succeeded in getting captured ourselves. What do you know about these Titanians, anyway?"
"They are horrid," one of the young ladies replied. "Can't you do something to get us away from here? We're afraid for our lives."
"It doesn't look to me as if we are in any immediate danger," Frank assured her. "Since we seemed to be regarded as freaks, they will probably keep us alive indefinitely."
"Don't be so sure of that. Those creatures are bad, I tell you. You should have seen what they did to Omar."
"Omar?" Brink exclaimed. "Who in the Universe is Omar?"
"Our mascot. He was"
"The darlingest Persian kitten you ever saw," the other girl interrupted. "We've taken him with us on all our trips. He has been all over the Solar System."
"What happened to him?" Sullivan wanted to know.
"One of those unspeakable brutes nailed him to a board and cut him all to pieces. He did it right in front of our eyes!"
"It was horrible!" the other girl resumed. "Poor Omar screamed so pitifully!"
"You mean they vivisected your cat?"
"That's exactly what they did. And I believe they are planning to do the same thing to us. Help!"
"What's the matter?" Brink cried in an alarmed voice.
"One of the Titanians just grabbed Vera," said a voice which Brink assumed to be Velma's. "It is wrapping its nasty tenacle around her mouth so she can't—Oh! Now it has me!"
"Miss Valentine!" Brink yelled. "Are you two all right?"
In a smothered mumble came the words, "Don't worry about us. They are only trying to gag us. Perhaps we'd better quit talking for a while."
"That sounds like those Titanians can hear us talk," Sullivan whispered to Brink.
"No question about that. And—what is more important—I'm convinced that they are highly intelligent and can understand what we say."
"Nonsense!" Sullivan scoffed. "Those amoeba-things intelligent? Why they are nothing but great blobs of protoplasm!"
"So is the human brain nothing but a big blob of protoplasm. Even the lowest type of microscopic amoeba has a rudimentary brain. Biologists call it the nucleus. There's not much to it, but when the nucleus is removed, the amoeba cannot envelope and digest its food in the usual way. For all we know, the nucleus of the tiny amoeba might have developed into a sentient, thinking brain, even more wonderful than ours."
"Sounds mighty fishy to me," was the doubting response. "I always thought that highly developed mental powers were associated only with organisms that are highly developed physically—organisms that have heads and legs and other members. These Titanian babies don't seem to have anything but great big gobs of shapeless goo."
"Nevertheless, these amoeba-men, simple as their bodies are, seem to possess powers that make them far superior to use physically as also mentally. If a Titanian needs an arm, he can manufacture one instantly from the substance of his own body. And he can make it as long and as thick as he requires to accomplish the particular purpose. In the same way, he can produce as many legs, feet, hands and tentacles, and even wings as he needs, whenever he wants them. And in this respect, he isn't much more talented than the most primitive amoeba, which can transform any part of its substance into pseudopodsa, exactly suited to grasping and devouring its prey."
"Do you mean to tell me that amoebas can fly?" Sullivan exclaimed.
"Not that I know of," Brink laughed. "But of this I am sure: If they wanted to, they certainly could produce wing-like protuberances and manipulate them like these Titanians do when they fly. Talk about being mere blobs of protoplasm—why they are better developed and far more efficient than we are!"
"Maybe so. But a minute ago, you suggested that
