The thing screamed-the high, thin sound was almost beyond hearing. The reddish dust scattered around me, it was a heavy disintegration. In the distance, I could hear the sting of the tail being torn apart by the rubbery growth of weeds.

Half of the snake's head was eroded by the rays, and the snake attacked again, but this time his goal was crazy. The powerful half buried itself in the mud next to me, and then I swung the tube of the projector downward, tearing the full force of the rays to the areas above and behind the brain I imagined. A heavy reddish dust exuded from the top of the ugly head.

Corey ran back. Sleepy, I heard him shouting.

"Be careful!" I warned him "Stay back! Let these people back down! I have caught him, but he will die very hard-"

As if to prove that I was right, a terrible thing turned into a shapeless mass, the head was pulled out of the mud, and two huge tortured bodies wrapped around my head. One of the huge fins swayed like a sail, and its hooks and claws tore one of Corey's people to **** fragments. In order to save this unfortunate man, Corey himself did his best and was hit twenty feet. For a moment, I thought that the beast had killed Corey too.

Panting, Corey stood up, and I ran to assist him.

"Come back, guys!" I yelled "Hendricks! Go away as fast as possible. Back! Back!" Half-pulling Corey, who was still unable to breathe, I hurried after the people.

Behind us, the huge viper shook the earth in the pain of his death and beat the plain around him into a veritable sea of ​​slime.

From a favorable point of view, we watched the ending on.

"I never did," Corey said in awe. "It takes a long time to die to see anything."

"You have never seen it before," I remarked harshly, "I saw a snake so big. For a long time, that powerful body has grown; it is natural that even if the brain breaks down into dust, the body will not die immediately. "

"There is no doubt that his nervous system is highly fragmented," Hendricks nodded. Hendricks, as I said, is an actual scientific man, even though he has neither laboratory staff nor scientists. "And instinct is leading him back to the sea, he came from there reluctantly. Look, he is almost in the water."

"I don't care where he goes," Corey said savagely, "so he went there like carrion. Mr. Clark is a good man, sir." Clark was the one killed by the snake.

"Yes," I said. It would be painful to make up for the loss; even though the department’s discipline was very strict, or at least it used to be strict, during the many patrols of small ships like this, the officers stayed very close to their soldiers. "But the Carbits with nearly two thousand souls are safe."

We all looked up. That is no longer visible. Severely injured, but still worth a visit, she moved on.

"I think," Corey grinned, "we will be thanked by the radio." The smile was real; the manner was enough to make him happy. The nervousness disappeared.

"Probably. But-look at our friend! He was finally in the water. I think that was the last time we saw him."

Half of the huge body is already in the water, tying it into white foam. A large part of the rest slid down, twitched, and slid down the coast. The water boils; the dark ring flips over the surface and disappears. Then, as if the big snake finally found peace, the water surface subsided, only the white foamy wreath on the surface showed that he was sinking into the slime that had oozes birth.

"End." I commented. "The rest is for scientists to gather here to admire his bones. They may condemn us for destroying his skull. Remember, it took them thousands of years to find the remains of sea snakes on the earth."

"Sometime in the twentieth century, isn't it, sir?" Hendricks asked. "I think my memory is good for me."

"I won't swear. I know that the sailors report their age, but it doesn't work for laboratory personnel and scientists. They must put the bones in front of them and be tested and measured."

I found that this is the trouble for scientists. Their ability to believe has declined. They can't see anything beyond the laboratory table.

Of course, I'm just an old man, maybe I feel bitter about the dry sap. That's what I was told. They called me "Old John Hansen" and they laughed as if explaining everything.

old? Of course I am old! However, the years behind me are not empty years. I didn't take the time to bend them over the gadgets, nor did I arrange the numbers in rows.

I am right with the scientists. They did protest against our carelessness in sabotaging snake heads. They can only estimate the capacity of the brain, debate the head index, and guess from the forehead: this is a terrible blow to science.

Bitter old John Hansen!

I am very happy about the protests caused by the "derogatory" comments about women in the previous stories of the Special Patrol Bureau. Surprisingly, a large part of it comes from men. Of course young people.

Now, in fact, a careful search did not reveal any very casual remarks to me. I think that based on my experience, I suggest that women show a sad lack of understanding of mechanical contributions. Maybe I have imagined some of them as frivolous and shallow. If I have been unfair, I now want to apologize.

As some of my correspondents have pointed out, I am not a painful old man who cannot remember his youth. I do remember well, otherwise these stories will not appear. Women even have their own status and status in the universe of men.

Maybe one day, this mood will attract me to write about my love affair. Does this surprise you? Do you think that the recently retired Special Patrol Commander John Hansen should be in love? Well, many years ago, before these eyes lost their firepower, and these brown, skinny hands were as tired as they are now...

But I know many women, good women are bad. Great women and weak women; kind women, women are as fierce as wild bears. Women treat God very generously. The emotional range given to them is much larger than that of men. They can sink into masculinity. They can rise to the height of love and sacrifice. Before that, humans could only stand with pious bowing and wonder.

This is the story of a woman-a woman that a man cannot know or remember. I do not apologize for her; I do not pay tribute to her. I only recorded my youth adventures in which she played her role, but it is not inaccurate. I leave the task of judging her to you.

^ Some three days for the base, as I remember, the monotonous sequence on which routine patrols promised to welcome the episode mission. At that time, I was the commander of Etak. This unit was one of its elite warships, and I believe that with the assistance of any of the best officers, anyone has been under him.

When the amazing news was brought to us, I was standing in the navigation room with my junior officers.

Corey is my first adjutant. He is a man who is embarrassed on all sides. If someone catches his breath, he is an actor. For example, these illusory times will not happen. When he walked into the room, his eyes were quite bright, and his wide mouth became a cold line.

"What's the matter, Mr. Corey?" I asked worriedly. "Trouble?"

"A lot, sir!" He patted. "Stowaway!"

"Stowaway?" I repeated strangely. A new experience, but it hardly causes obvious anger. "Well, send him down and tell Milo to let him go to work-this is the most difficult job he can find. We will let him-"

"He?" Corey blurted out. "If it were him, that would be fine, sir. But it was her!"

To understand the full effect of the sentence, you must be immersed in the tradition of service. Women are rarely allowed to board the boats of the department; despite their many admirable qualities, they play a very demonic role in discipline. This is our three-day duty trip from the base, promising more excitement, there is a female stowaway on board!

I feel my mouth is dull.

"Where is she, sir?" I asked quietly.

"In my dormitory, under the guard. Sir, this is the watch under me, sir. I entered my cabin, thinking about catching forty blinks, she was sitting on that big chair, yes I smile.

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