 What ultimately brings Torp down?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1942. He stared appraisingly around at the luxuriant green growth of foliage further inland; and started toward the little stretch of trees and brush, walking carefully because of the lesser gravitation. Oddest of all, he wore no garments, other than the necessary belt and straps to support his rod-like weapon of white metal and his pouches for food and specimens. The Orthan entered the narrow strip of trees and crossed to the little-used highway on the other side. Here he patiently sat down to wait for an Earthman or an Earthwoman to pass. His task now was to bring a native, intact if possible, back to the carefully buried space cruiser where his two fellows and himself would drain the creature's mentality of all its knowledge. In this way they could learn whether a planet was suited for colonization by later swarms of Orthans. Already they had charted over a hundred celestial bodies but of them all only three had proven worthy of consideration. This latest planet, however, 72-P-3 on the chart, appeared to be an ideal world in every respect. Sunlight, plenty of water and a dense atmospheric envelope made of 72-P-3 a paradise among planets. The Earthman was opposite now and he must waste no more precious time. The mighty muscles of the Orthan sent him hurtling across the intervening space in two prodigious bounds, and his hands clamped across the mouth and neck of the stranger.... For a week the typewriter mill that had ground out a thousand assorted yarns of the untamed West and the frigid desolation of the Northwoods had been silent. Feebly he had punched a key two days ago and a $ sign had appeared. For Mr. Terry, that hard-hitting writer of two-gun action, had never been further west of Long Island than Elizabeth, and he had promised his wife, Ellen, that he would take the three children and herself on a trailer tour of the West that very summer. Then he had no time for further speech, the massive arms of the stranger had wound around him and two hamlike hands shut off his speech and his wind. "There it is," announced Thig, dropping the limp body of the captured Earthman to the metal deck-plates. "With a psychic relay we will transfer the Earthman's memories and meager store of knowledge to the brain of Thig! "For the good of the Horde," Thig intoned almost piously as he lifted Terry's body and headed for the laboratory.
 Thip shoots him with a blaster before he can comprehend what happened.
 He went mad from the same disease that's afflicting Thip.  Thip shoots him with a blaster before he can comprehend what happened.  His own madness. His overly trained mind can't handle the new circumstances.  He was never trained for a situation like this. He's not able to keep up with Thip.