Read Online Black Gods and Scarlet Dreams by C. L. Moore - Free Book Online Page A

they left it?” Smith's pale stare met Yarol's black one across the table. Silence hung between them for a moment. Then Smith said,
    “Any objection to us having a little talk with those two over there?”
    “None at all,” answered the hoarse whisper promptly. “Go now, if you like.” Smith rose without further words. Yarol pushed back his chair noiselessly and followed him.
    They crossed the floor with the spaceman's peculiar, shifting walk and slid into opposite chairs between the huddling two.
    The effect was startling. The Earthman jerked convulsively and turned a pasty face, eloquent with alarm, toward the interruption. The drylander stared from Smith's face to Yarol's in dumb terror. Neither spoke.
    “Know that fellow over there?” inquired Smith abruptly, jerking his head toward the table they had quitted..
    After a moment's hesitation the two heads turned as one. When they faced around again the terror on the Earthman's face was giving way to a dawning comprehension. He said from a dry throat, “He — he's hiring you, eh?”
    Smith nodded. The Earthman's face crumpled into terror again and he cried,
    “Don't do it. For God's sake, you don't know!”
    “Know what?”
    The man glanced furtively round the room and licked his lips uncertainly. A curious play of conflicting emotions flickered across his face.
    “Dangerous—” he mumbled. “Better leave well enough alone. We found that out.”
    “What happened?”
    The Earthman stretched out a shaking hand for the segir bottle and poured a brimming glass.
    He drained it before he spoke, and the incoherence of his speech may have been due to the glasses that had preceded it.
    “We went up toward the polar mountains, where he said. Weeks . . . it was cold. The nights get dark up there . . . dark. Went into the cave that goes through the mountain — a long way. . . . Then our lights went out — full-charged batteries in new super-Tomlinson tubes, but they went out like candles, and in the dark — in the dark the white thing came. . . .” A shudder went over him strongly. He reached out shaking hands for the segir bottle and poured another glass, the rim clicking against his teeth as he drank. Then he set down the glass hard and said violently,
    “That's all. We left. Don't remember a thing about getting out — or much more than starving and freezing in the saltlands for a long time. Our supplies ran low — hadn't been for him” — nodding across the table — “we'd both have died. Don't know how we did get out finally — but we're out, understand? Out! Nothing could hire us to go back — we've seen enough.
    There's something about it that — that makes your head ache — we saw . . . never mind.
    But—”
    He beckoned Smith closer and sank his voice to a whisper. His eyes rolled fearfully.
    “It's after us. Don't ask me what . . . I don't know. But — feel it in the dark, watching — watching in the dark. . . .”
    The voice sank to a mumble and he reached again for the segir bottle.
    “It's here now — waiting — if the lights go out — watching — mustn't let the lights go out — more segir .” 
    The bottle clinked on the glass-rim, the voice trailed away into drunken mutterings.
    Smith pushed back his chair and nodded to Yarol. The two at the table did not seem to notice their departure. The drylander was clutching the segir bottle in turn and pouring out red liquid without watching the glass — an apprehensive one-eyed stare turned across his shoulder.
    Smith laid a hand on his companion's shoulder and drew him across the room toward the bar.
    Yarol scowled at the approaching bartender and suggested,
    “Suppose we get an advance for drinks, anyhow.”
    “Are we taking it?”
    “Well, what d'you think?”
    “It's dangerous; You know, there's something worse than whisky wrong with those two. Did you notice the Earthman's eyes?”
    “Whites showed all around,” nodded Yarol. “I've seen madmen look like that.”
    “I