'Mid Pleasures and Palaces

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  _It was, Kirk thought, like standing in a gully, watching a boulder teeter precariously above you. It might fall at any minute, crushing your life out instantly beneath its weight. Your only possible defenses are your brain and voice--but how do you argue with a boulder which neither sees nor hears?_

  'mid pleasures and palaces

  By James McKimmey, Jr.

  Illustrated by Philip Parsons

  This planet was remote and set apart, and nothing about it had madeWilliam Kirk think he might find human life. Yet just beyond, through athorny bush shaped like an exploding rose, Kirk had seen eyes and noseand a flash of yellow hair that were definitely human.

  Kirk poised motionless. He was three miles from the rocket and Leo, whowas waiting inside of it. He thought for a moment of how Leo had toldhim, as they made their landing, that this is the kind of planet whereyou could go no further. This is the kind of planet that could be theend of twelve years, and you'd better be careful, William, old sport.

  Kirk noticed a faint breeze; his palms were wet, and they cooled whenthe breeze touched them. He placed his palms against his jacket. Damnyou, Leo, he thought. Damn your rotten fortune-telling. Kirk wassuperstitious when he was in space, and the memory of Leo Mason's cool,quiet voice saying "Watch it now, sport. Be careful, be careful ..."seemed now like some certain kiss of fate.

  The bush trembled and Kirk's right hand flicked to his holster. Hispistol was cold against his fingers and he let it fit loosely in hishand, the barrel half-raised.

  The bush shivered again, and then all at once the figure was rising frombehind it, a tall wide figure with a very tan face, lined andtoughened by the sun. The shoulders, bare like the chest, were massive,yet somehow stretched-looking, as though endless exposure to wind andrain and sun had turned the skin to brown leather.

  Kirk had his pistol pointing at the figure's stomach now, and the figureblinked, while the breeze touched and ruffled the long bleached hair.

  The figure raised a large hand, palm up, and curled the fingers."Hello?" he said softly. Kirk was surprised by the word and the politesound of it.

  Kirk remained motionless, pistol pointing. "Who are you?" he saidthrough his teeth.

  "Harry," said the figure, as though Kirk surely should know who he was."I'm Harry, of course."

  "Yes?" said Kirk carefully. "Harry?"

  The figure nodded. "Harry Loren, don't you know?"

  "Oh, yes," Kirk said, his eyes watchful. "Harry Loren." There wassomething about the man's eyes, Kirk decided. They were deep set andvery bright within their sockets. They didn't match the softness of thespeech. Harry Loren smiled and showed his yellow teeth. "Who are you?"he asked politely.

  "I'm William," Kirk said. It was as though he might be speaking to afrightened child, he thought, who held a sharp knife in his hands."William Kirk, of course."

  Harry Loren nodded apologetically. "Oh, yes. I can't remember everyone.It's been so long. How are you, William?"

  Kirk's eyes flickered. "I'm fine."

  "That's nice," Harry Loren nodded. His wild hair brushed over hisshoulders and reflected its yellowness against the sun. The knife then,the one that Kirk had thought about a moment ago, appeared in thefigure's hand. "_Bastard_," Harry Loren hissed, and he was leaping atKirk, the knife making a sweep toward Kirk's stomach.

  Something kept Kirk from squeezing the trigger, and instead he swung hispistol so that it struck the brown, weathered knuckles. The knife flewinto a thicket and Loren, screaming, was upon Kirk, reaching for Kirk'sneck. Kirk wrenched backward and at the same time swung the barrel ofthe pistol toward the yellow flying hair. There was a cracking sound,and Harry Loren, brown and wild-looking, crumpled silently before Kirk'sfeet.

  Kirk examined the man, then he reached down and picked up the knife fromthe thicket. It was crudely hammered out from some kind of alloy, butsharp nevertheless, and it could have been deadly in a hand like HarryLoren's.

  Kirk looked again at the yellow-haired man on the ground. He was wearingsome kind of ragged cloth about his waist and nothing else. Across hisback, Kirk could see, was a curving scar, an inch wide and ten or twelveinches long. It was white and very noticeable against the brown of theman's skin.

  Kirk bent down, looking at the scar carefully. It could have been madeduring a crash of a rocket, but there were, he noticed, fine whiterridges running along the length of the scar as though they had beenmade by fine comb-like teeth. A talon, perhaps. Some kind of strangeclaw. Kirk straightened quickly.

  It went through his head that Harry Loren might not be the only animallife on this planet. He tightened his hand on his pistol, steppingbackward, his eyes darting.

  But he could only pivot slowly, trying to see, to discover, and he wasmuch too slow when he finally saw it. It was only a flash of yellow andbrown, making a hissing kind of sound. He felt the ripping along hisright arm. The pistol was going out of his hand. And a swirlingblackness got in front of his eyes.

  * * * * *

  When he awoke he saw Harry Loren first, who was sitting up now, silent,motionless, with Kirk's pistol resting in his hands.

  To the side of Loren and just a little behind rested a peculiar-lookingthing. It was alive because its head, shaped like a cone that had beenattached to its neck, kept swaying gently back and forth. The dark blueeyes, spaced back from the smallest end of the cone, were rather smallwith no lids. The creature's neck was long and thin, a multitude ofshades of yellow and brown like the head, and the rest of the bodywidened out like a funnel and this area was covered with yellowfeathers. It had what appeared to be arms and legs, long thin extensionsof dark brown with large bony joints. At the end of each of these, Kirkcould see a flat claw with rows of tiny comb-like teeth.

  Loren reached out and ran a hand softly along the creature's long neck.

  Kirk tried to think, testing his muscles without moving, and heremembered then the ripping along his right arm. He looked at the armand at the way his jacket had been torn away along with the shirtbeneath it. He could see the comb-like marking of his skin. The cut wasnot deep but it bled a little and stung. He tried to move his arm andfound that he could.

  Kirk looked back to Loren. Loren stroked his hand along the thin neck ofthe creature. Kirk decided to try:

  "That's a nice-looking animal, Harry."

  Loren's expression did not change.

  Kirk paused. From the looks of the man, Loren had been here a long time,a very long time. It had been a crash, probably. And all the yearsafterward of loneliness, all the time for the quiet but sure warping ofthe brain.

  He raised a hand quickly, watching Loren's eyes. Loren did not changeexpressions or move the pistol, but Kirk felt a comb-like claw touchinghis hand, freezing it to motionless with its razor tips. Kirk looked atthe creature. The dark blue eyes were steady. Kirk lowered his handslowly and the claw was drawn away. The creature's head resumed it'sgentle swaying, and Loren's hand resumed its stroking.

  Kirk licked his lips.

  "Where have you been?" Loren said, his voice sudden and hoarse now.

  "Where have I been?" Kirk said, tight and motionless.

  "Why didn't you come before?"

  Kirk considered it. The dancing lights in the man's eyes, thehigh-strung sound of his voice were things to make you wary and careful.Kirk closed his fingers the slightest bit. "I didn't know you werehere."

  Loren's lips thinned. "Liar."

  Kirk thought he might try a smile, to reassure Loren that he was tellingthe truth. He decided against it. "How long have you been here, Harry?"

  "How would I know?"<
br />
  Kirk thought of the endless nights and days when time ran together andthere was no more separation of one time from another. Today would betomorrow and tomorrow would be today. No changes. Endless. "Did youcrash, Harry?"

  "Did you crash, Harry?" Loren mimicked, and for a moment Kirk felt achill dancing through him as he watched the sarcastic leer of Loren'smouth.

  Kirk kept his tone polite, patronizing. "Was there anyone else?"

  Loren laughed, a laugh that bounced over the rocks and through thescrubs and bushes.

  "Was there, Harry?"

  "Oh, yes," Loren said, grinning and showing his yellow teeth. "Six. One,two, three, four, five, six. Would you like to see their graves? I'vekept the graves pretty. I know