Planet Stories Super Pack #2. Ray Bradbury, Nelson S. Bond, Leigh Brackett

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СКАЧАТЬ right. But taking my daughter...."

      "I deserve the sucking-plant."

      "What’s done is done, and it’s turned out right."

      People were clamoring outside the Ship. Kirk was sweating. He tasted it, and laughed, pulling in his belly and spreading his chest.

      "Heat," he said. "And no more fighting with the Piruts. Maybe there’s some way we can roof the gorge and bring the heat up into the fields so the moss will grow better. And there’s a lot of this world out beyond the gullies. We’ve never been able to explore it because of the Piruts. Samel, do you know what lies beyond you?"

      Samel shook his head. "We had to eat and hunt for heat-stones, too."

      "A whole world," said Kirk, "just waiting for us. Maybe we’ll find other gorges like this one. Maybe places with better soil. The kids can grow up warm and fat, and have kids of their own...."

      He turned around and looked at the Captain’s yellow daughter.

      He said, "Do you still hate me?"

      Her yellow shoulders twitched. She turned her back on him, and she was so beautiful he hurt with it. He went up behind her.

      "I said I was sorry."

      She didn’t answer. A close-mouthed piece.

      "I lied."

      Her head jerked a little and her earcups moved.

      "I’m not sorry I took you with me. I’m not sorry I kissed you on the rock. Are you sorry you saved my life?"

      She tossed her head. "I didn’t."

      "You did so. You twisted that shag’s nose half off. Why?"

      She turned around, hot-eyed, and slapped him. He laughed. He took her in his arms and waited till she quit clawing and struggling. Then he kissed her. Presently she kissed him back.

      "You don’t talk much," he said. "But who wants talk?"

      War-Gods of the Void

      By Henry Kuttner

       Jerry Vanning trailed the fugitive Callahan into the swampy wastes of Venus, Hell-Kingdom of the fabled War-Gods. He reached his goal—walking with the robot-strides of a North-fever slave.

      I

      Earth Consul, Goodenow, tossed a packet of microfilms to Vanning, and said, "You’re crazy. The man you’re after isn’t here. Only damn fools ever come to Venus—and don’t ask me why I’m here. You’re crazy to think you’ll find a fugitive hiding on this planet."

      Jerry Vanning, earth state investigator, moved his stocky body uneasily. He had a headache. He had had it ever since the precarious landing through the tremendous wind-maelstroms of the pea-soup Venusian atmosphere. With an effort he focused his vision on the micro-projector Goodenow handed him, and turned the tiny key. Inside the box, a face sprang into view. He sighed and slid another of the passport-films into place. He had never seen the man before.

      "Routine check-up," he said patiently. "I got a tip Callahan was heading here, and we can’t afford to take chances."

      The consul mopped his sweating, beefy face and cursed Venusian air-conditioning units. "Who is this guy Callahan, anyway?" he asked. "I’ve heard a little—but we don’t get much news on the frontier."

      "Political refugee," Vanning said, busy with the projector. "Potentially, one of the most dangerous men in the System. Callahan started his career as a diplomat, but there wasn’t enough excitement for him."

      The consul fumbled with a cigar. "Can you tell me any more?"

      "Well—Callahan got hold of a certain secret treaty that must be destroyed. If he shows it in the right places, he might start a revolution, particularly on Callisto. My idea is that he’s hiding out till the excitement dies down—and then he’ll head for Callisto."

      Goodenow pursed his lips. "I see. But you won’t find him here."

      Vanning jerked his thumb toward a window. "The jungle—"

      "Hell, no!" the consul said decidedly. "Venus, Mr. Vanning, is not Earth. We’ve got about two hundred settlements scattered here and there; the rest is swamp and mountains. When a man gets lost, we wait a few days and then write out a death certificate. Because once an Earthman leaves a settlement, his number’s up."

      "So?"

      "So Callahan isn’t here. Nobody comes here," Goodenow said bitterly.

      "Settlers do," Vanning remarked.

      "Bloody fools. They raise herbs and mola. If they didn’t come, Venus would be uninhabited except by natives in a few years. The North-Fever ... You’d better watch out for that, by the way. If you start feeling rocky, see a doctor. Not that it’ll help. But you can be put under restraint till the fever passes."

      Vanning looked up. "I’ve heard of that. Just what—"

      "Nobody knows," Goodenow said, shrugging hopelessly. "A virus. A filterable virus, presumably. Scientists have been working on it ever since Venus was colonized. It hits the natives, too. Some get it, some don’t. It works the same way with Earthmen. You feel like you’re cracking up—and then, suddenly—you go North. Into the swamp. You never come back. That’s the end of you."

      "Funny!"

      "Sure it is. But—ever heard of the lemmings? Little animals that used to make mass pilgrimages, millions of them. They’d head west till they reached the ocean, and then keep going. Nobody knew the cause of that, either."

      "What lies north?"

      "Swamp, I suppose. How should I know? We’ve got no facilities for finding out. We can’t fly, and expeditions say there’s nothing there but the usual Venusian hell. I wish—"

      *

      "Oh-oh!" Vanning sat up, peering into the projector. "Wait a minute, Goodenow. I think—"

      "Callahan? No!"

      "He’s disguised, but ... Lucky this is a three-dimensional movie. Let’s hear his voice." Vanning touched a button on the box. A low, musical voice said:

      "My name is Jerome Bentley, New York City, Earth. I’m an importer, and am on Venus to investigate the possibilities of buying a steady supply of herbs—"

      "Yeah," Vanning said tonelessly. "That’s it. Jerome Bentley—nuts! That’s Don Callahan! He’s disguised so well his own mother wouldn’t know him—best make-up artist in the System. But I’ve studied his records till I nearly went blind and deaf. I don’t make mistakes about Callahan any more."

      Goodenow blinked. "I’ll be blowed. I’ve seen the man a dozen times, and I’d have sworn ... well! If you’re sure—"

      "I’m sure." Vanning referred to the records. "Staying at the Star Palace, eh? Okay, I’ll be pushing off."

      "I’ll СКАЧАТЬ