Read Online Nine Rarities by Ray Bradbury, James Settles - Free Book Online
Authors: Ray Bradbury, James Settles
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what it was. Utter night had come without any warning, as it always did on these slowly rotating asteroids. Toward the caverns and crannies at the base of the cliff he glimpsed vague horrid things, pale and wriggling, with sensitive amoeboid tentacles where eyes should have been. He heard strange sibilances from these asteroid creatures who hated light but loved the dark and loved blood, which they got too seldom.
Skeel arose hastily and hurried to his Patrol cruiser a short distance away. He looked back but once, and glimpsed scores of the vague nightmare shapes swarming over a prone human form there in the cliff shadow.
CHAPTER II
ARRIVING at the Federation Patrol headquarters on Ceres Base, Skeel eased his solo cruiser into the glassite dome with an expert hand. None of the men spoke to him. They tried not even to look at him. But if Jim Skeel noticed this he gave no indication. He sauntered over to the door marked "Commander" and entered without knocking.
Commander Anders looked up from his desk. At sight of Skeel his leathery jaw tightened a little. A look of distaste flashed into his steel gray eyes.
"Reporting, sir," said Skeel. He carefully, a little too carefully, spread out the identification cards he had taken from the fugitive's pockets.
Anders rose slowly to his feet. His knuckles were white as he placed his fists on the desk and leaned tautly forward.
"You didn't capture the man?" Anders' voice was a monotone, as though he had asked that question more than once.
"Sorry, sir. He's dead."
"Dead." There was not much of surprise in Anders' voice. Then the voice and the gray eyes became simultaneously harder. "Did you kill him?"
"Kill him, sir?" Skeel's eyebrows arched. "No, sir. I had to chase him clear to Asteroid 78 in the Lanisar Group, and there he—he fell off a cliff. I only had time to get his identification cards and get away, before the night creatures came swarming out. Sorry."
Anders kicked his chair back against the wall and came surging around the desk. He was white-faced. "Sorry! You're not sorry, Skeel! In God's name, how do you have the ghastly nerve to come back here each and every time? How can you face me—no, more than that, how can you face your conscience? I wonder what goes on inside that riveted skull, behind that paper-mache expression of yours!" He paused and drew a breath. "What makes you kill, Skeel? How many does this make — eleven? Twelve?"
Skeel sighed, and spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture. "You always were a long winded louse, sir. There are Miller's papers. And I didn't kill him. He fell off a cliff. Is that all, sir?"
"No! That's not all!" Anders came even closer, and glared up at Skeel who towered above him. "You've been in the Patrol a long time, Skeel. Luckily, or I should say unluckily, your previous good record and your seniority permits you to get away with this—until we prove something. Some day you'll slip and we will prove it. I pray that day'll come soon!"
SKEEL'S own eyes, which had been amused, now took on a hard glint. He spoke and his voice was different.
"Since you bring up the subject of my seniority, let me remind you that it would permit me to take your place here if I so chose. I do not so choose—yet. As to the other thing you imagine about me, I could tell you a story, sir. A story that—" He stopped abruptly as the fierce rush of blood came to his throbbing temples again.
"Yes, man, go on! You were about to tell me why you kill." Anders waited. "Weren't you!"
"No, sir." Skeel's voice was a whisper now, but controlled.
"I know you must have some sort of hellish reason. But whatever the reason, it's an insult to everything you learned in the Federation Patrol! All right, Skeel, I'll tell you something about young Miller, your latest victim. He was innocent, do you hear? Innocent! The evidence against him was purely circumstantial, but now he
Skeel arose hastily and hurried to his Patrol cruiser a short distance away. He looked back but once, and glimpsed scores of the vague nightmare shapes swarming over a prone human form there in the cliff shadow.
CHAPTER II
ARRIVING at the Federation Patrol headquarters on Ceres Base, Skeel eased his solo cruiser into the glassite dome with an expert hand. None of the men spoke to him. They tried not even to look at him. But if Jim Skeel noticed this he gave no indication. He sauntered over to the door marked "Commander" and entered without knocking.
Commander Anders looked up from his desk. At sight of Skeel his leathery jaw tightened a little. A look of distaste flashed into his steel gray eyes.
"Reporting, sir," said Skeel. He carefully, a little too carefully, spread out the identification cards he had taken from the fugitive's pockets.
Anders rose slowly to his feet. His knuckles were white as he placed his fists on the desk and leaned tautly forward.
"You didn't capture the man?" Anders' voice was a monotone, as though he had asked that question more than once.
"Sorry, sir. He's dead."
"Dead." There was not much of surprise in Anders' voice. Then the voice and the gray eyes became simultaneously harder. "Did you kill him?"
"Kill him, sir?" Skeel's eyebrows arched. "No, sir. I had to chase him clear to Asteroid 78 in the Lanisar Group, and there he—he fell off a cliff. I only had time to get his identification cards and get away, before the night creatures came swarming out. Sorry."
Anders kicked his chair back against the wall and came surging around the desk. He was white-faced. "Sorry! You're not sorry, Skeel! In God's name, how do you have the ghastly nerve to come back here each and every time? How can you face me—no, more than that, how can you face your conscience? I wonder what goes on inside that riveted skull, behind that paper-mache expression of yours!" He paused and drew a breath. "What makes you kill, Skeel? How many does this make — eleven? Twelve?"
Skeel sighed, and spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture. "You always were a long winded louse, sir. There are Miller's papers. And I didn't kill him. He fell off a cliff. Is that all, sir?"
"No! That's not all!" Anders came even closer, and glared up at Skeel who towered above him. "You've been in the Patrol a long time, Skeel. Luckily, or I should say unluckily, your previous good record and your seniority permits you to get away with this—until we prove something. Some day you'll slip and we will prove it. I pray that day'll come soon!"
SKEEL'S own eyes, which had been amused, now took on a hard glint. He spoke and his voice was different.
"Since you bring up the subject of my seniority, let me remind you that it would permit me to take your place here if I so chose. I do not so choose—yet. As to the other thing you imagine about me, I could tell you a story, sir. A story that—" He stopped abruptly as the fierce rush of blood came to his throbbing temples again.
"Yes, man, go on! You were about to tell me why you kill." Anders waited. "Weren't you!"
"No, sir." Skeel's voice was a whisper now, but controlled.
"I know you must have some sort of hellish reason. But whatever the reason, it's an insult to everything you learned in the Federation Patrol! All right, Skeel, I'll tell you something about young Miller, your latest victim. He was innocent, do you hear? Innocent! The evidence against him was purely circumstantial, but now he
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