Read Online New Folks' Home: And Other Stories (The Complete Short Fiction of Clifford D. Simak Book 6) by Clifford D. Simak - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Clifford D. Simak
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Mars was cold! Here on the equator the temperature varied little, unlike the poles, where it might rise to 20 above during the summer when, for ten long months, the Sun never set, dropped to 100 or more below in the winter, when the Sun was unseen for equally as long.
He leaned back in his chair and gazed out through the quartz walls of the igloo. Far down the slope of the canal wall he saw the flickering lights of the Ghosts, those tenuous, wraith-like forms whose origin, true nature, and purpose were still the bone of bitter scientific contention.
The starlight threw strange lights and shadows on the twisted terrain of the canal. The naturally weird surface formations became a nightmare of strange, awe-impelling shapes, like pages snatched from the portfolio of a mad artist.
A black shape crossed a lighted ravine, slunk into the shadows.
“A Hound,” said Kent.
Charley cursed in his whiskers.
“If them lopers keep hangin’ around,” he prophesied savagely, “we’ll have some of their pelts to take out to Red Rock.”
“They’re mighty gun-shy,” declared Kent. “Can’t get near one of them.”
“Yeah,” said Charley, “but just try goin’ out without a gun and see what happens. ‘Most as bad as the Eaters. Only difference is that the Hounds would just as soon eat a man, an’ the Eaters would rather eat a man. They sure hanker after human flesh.”
Another of the black shapes, slinking low, belly close to the ground, crossed the ravine.
“Another one,” said Kent.
Something else was moving in the ravine, a figure that glinted in the starlight.
Kent leaned forward, choking back a cry. Then he was on his feet.
“A man,” he shouted. “There’s a man out there!”
Charley’s chair overturned as he leaped up and stared through the quartz.
The space-armored figure was toiling up the slope that led to the igloo. In one hand the man carried a short blast rifle, and as they watched, the two trappers saw him halt and wheel about, the rifle leveled, ready for action, to stare back at the shadows into which the two Hounds had disappeared only a moment before.
A slight movement to the left and behind the man outside caught Kent’s eye and spurred him into action.
He leaped across the igloo and jerked from its rack his quartz-treated space suit, started clambering into it.
“What’s the trouble?” demanded Charley. “What the hell you doin’?”
“There’s an Eater out there,” shouted Kent. “I saw it just a minute ago.”
He snapped down the helmet and reached for his rifle as Charley spun open the inner air-lock port. Swiftly Kent leaped through, heard the inner port being screwed shut as he swung open the outer door.
Cold bit through the suit and into his very bones as he stepped out into the Martian night. With a swift flip he turned on the chemical heat units and felt a glow of warmth sweep over him.
The man in the ravine below was trudging up the path toward the igloo.
Kent shouted at him.
“Come on! Fast as you can!”
The man halted at the shout, stared upward.
“Come on!” screamed Kent.
The spacesuit moved forward.
Kent, racing down the ravine, saw the silica-armored brute that lurched out of the shadows and sped toward the unsuspecting visitor.
Kent’s rifle came to his shoulder. The sights lined on the ugly head of the Eater. His finger depressed the firing mechanism and the gun spat a tight column of destructive blue fire. The blast crumpled the Eater in mid-leap, flung him off his stride and to one side. But it did not kill him. His unlovely body, gleaming like a reddish mirror in the starlight, clawed upon its feet, stood swinging the gigantic head from side to side.
A shrill scream sounded in Kent’s helmet phones, but he was too busy getting the sights of the weapon lined on the Eater again to pay it any attention.
Again the rifle spat and purred, the blue blast-flame impinging squarely on the silica-armored head. Bright sparks flew from the beast’s
He leaned back in his chair and gazed out through the quartz walls of the igloo. Far down the slope of the canal wall he saw the flickering lights of the Ghosts, those tenuous, wraith-like forms whose origin, true nature, and purpose were still the bone of bitter scientific contention.
The starlight threw strange lights and shadows on the twisted terrain of the canal. The naturally weird surface formations became a nightmare of strange, awe-impelling shapes, like pages snatched from the portfolio of a mad artist.
A black shape crossed a lighted ravine, slunk into the shadows.
“A Hound,” said Kent.
Charley cursed in his whiskers.
“If them lopers keep hangin’ around,” he prophesied savagely, “we’ll have some of their pelts to take out to Red Rock.”
“They’re mighty gun-shy,” declared Kent. “Can’t get near one of them.”
“Yeah,” said Charley, “but just try goin’ out without a gun and see what happens. ‘Most as bad as the Eaters. Only difference is that the Hounds would just as soon eat a man, an’ the Eaters would rather eat a man. They sure hanker after human flesh.”
Another of the black shapes, slinking low, belly close to the ground, crossed the ravine.
“Another one,” said Kent.
Something else was moving in the ravine, a figure that glinted in the starlight.
Kent leaned forward, choking back a cry. Then he was on his feet.
“A man,” he shouted. “There’s a man out there!”
Charley’s chair overturned as he leaped up and stared through the quartz.
The space-armored figure was toiling up the slope that led to the igloo. In one hand the man carried a short blast rifle, and as they watched, the two trappers saw him halt and wheel about, the rifle leveled, ready for action, to stare back at the shadows into which the two Hounds had disappeared only a moment before.
A slight movement to the left and behind the man outside caught Kent’s eye and spurred him into action.
He leaped across the igloo and jerked from its rack his quartz-treated space suit, started clambering into it.
“What’s the trouble?” demanded Charley. “What the hell you doin’?”
“There’s an Eater out there,” shouted Kent. “I saw it just a minute ago.”
He snapped down the helmet and reached for his rifle as Charley spun open the inner air-lock port. Swiftly Kent leaped through, heard the inner port being screwed shut as he swung open the outer door.
Cold bit through the suit and into his very bones as he stepped out into the Martian night. With a swift flip he turned on the chemical heat units and felt a glow of warmth sweep over him.
The man in the ravine below was trudging up the path toward the igloo.
Kent shouted at him.
“Come on! Fast as you can!”
The man halted at the shout, stared upward.
“Come on!” screamed Kent.
The spacesuit moved forward.
Kent, racing down the ravine, saw the silica-armored brute that lurched out of the shadows and sped toward the unsuspecting visitor.
Kent’s rifle came to his shoulder. The sights lined on the ugly head of the Eater. His finger depressed the firing mechanism and the gun spat a tight column of destructive blue fire. The blast crumpled the Eater in mid-leap, flung him off his stride and to one side. But it did not kill him. His unlovely body, gleaming like a reddish mirror in the starlight, clawed upon its feet, stood swinging the gigantic head from side to side.
A shrill scream sounded in Kent’s helmet phones, but he was too busy getting the sights of the weapon lined on the Eater again to pay it any attention.
Again the rifle spat and purred, the blue blast-flame impinging squarely on the silica-armored head. Bright sparks flew from the beast’s
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