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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31307-h.zip b/31307-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..78d865d --- /dev/null +++ b/31307-h.zip diff --git a/31307-h/31307-h.htm b/31307-h/31307-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aca8e31 --- /dev/null +++ b/31307-h/31307-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1343 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of One Purple Hope!, by Henry Hasse + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size:smaller;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of One Purple Hope!, by Henry Hasse + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: One Purple Hope! + +Author: Henry Hasse + +Release Date: February 17, 2010 [EBook #31307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE PURPLE HOPE! *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Planet Stories July 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="450" height="455" alt="If I'm going to die it's going to be my way—that was +Latham's last thought." title="" /> +<span class="caption">If I'm going to die it's going to be my way—that was +Latham's last thought.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<h1>ONE PURPLE HOPE!</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>By HENRY HASSE</h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Once he had been a tall, straight spaceman, free as the +galaxies. Now Joel Latham was a tsith-addict, a beach-comber +at Venusport. Maybe he'd get one last chance....</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="42" height="50" /></div> +<p>is sleep-drugged mind was slow to respond. He was lying face down, he +knew that. And he ought to get up. If he didn't get up he would drown. +Something hot and heavy, like a huge hand, was pressing him deeper +into the brackish mire. He pondered. Perhaps it were better to drown. +For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of the thought, then +decided against it. Plenty of time later for drowning. First there was +something he had to do!</p> + +<p>So it was that Joel Latham, Earthman, age thirty, occupation space +drifter, avocation tsith drinker, awakened on this most momentous of +mornings.</p> + +<p>Moaning in protest, he slowly rolled himself over. The sun slapped him +hard against the eyes. He blinked against the pain and saw that he was +still in Venusport; rather he was at the edge of the swamp near the +sprawling compound. Overhead the ionic field was aglow, humming +softly, beating back the obscurant mists.</p> + +<p>He managed to stand up. Some of the pallid-faced gweels, out in the +swamp, stopped their work to stare at him. Latham grimaced. Every +fiber of him, especially his brain, seemed to have been squeezed dry. +Then it came. He felt it coming and there was nothing he could do to +stop it. The hammering nausea took him suddenly about the middle, +bending him double.</p> + +<p>"I'm an Earthman," Joel Latham groaned aloud. That was invariably the +first reaction of the tsith hound, at least with Terrestrials who +indulged in the deadly stuff; a piteous protest half in defiance, half +in despair. The nausea reached up through his stomach, through his +chest and into his throat. It became more than nausea. It grew thorns +that stabbed inwardly, jagged edges that sawed away at his brain with +a terrible need. He fell forward on hands and knees ... and that's +when he saw the little Martian who crouched a few feet away, watching +him.</p> + +<p>"I went through mine a few minutes ago," the Martian said in a +monotone. "Yours will go away presently."</p> + +<p>"I know ... it will. Been through this ... before."</p> + +<p>"You obviously have. Many times."</p> + +<p>Many times was an understatement, Latham thought wretchedly. But this +was one of the worst ones, even worse than the time on Callisto. +Thinking about it didn't help.</p> + +<p>He turned his gaze back to the Martian. That didn't help either.</p> + +<p>Most Martians are lean and brown and ugly. This one was that, and +more. What had once been clothes were tattered and spattered with +swamp mud. The hair was a wisp, the teeth only a memory. The skin was +tight and leathery across the bony structure of the face, the eyes +distended and yellow, the unmistakable sign of a tsith hound.</p> + +<p>Latham grimaced, managed to grind out: "Do I look as bad as you?"</p> + +<p>"Worse," the little Martian was matter-of-fact.</p> + +<p>"I believe you." He looked long and hard at the Martian. "I remember +you now. Name's Kueelo. You were with me last night—"</p> + +<p>Kueelo grinned, showing the stumps of yellowish teeth. "Correction. +Four nights ago. That's when it began."</p> + +<p>Latham climbed to his feet. The reaction was going away but there was +still a dull apathy about his brain. Just to think was an aching +effort.</p> + +<p>"Four days," he muttered. "How'd I come here?"</p> + +<p>"So you don't remember that? You came on the pleasure yacht. The one +from Turibek."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>uribek—" Latham was remembering now. Turibek, capital city of +Venus, far on the other side of the planet. He'd had a small stake and +was lucky at the gaming tables. Before that it was Callisto, where he +had struck it rich in the iridium fields; anyway, rich enough to keep +him supplied with tsith for a year. Before Callisto it had been Mars. +He had worked the rocket rooms of Jovian freighters, he had served as +tourist guide in the dark little streets of Ganymede City, and when +fortune was lowest he had begged in those streets and done worse +things than begging. Before that he couldn't remember. He went +wherever whim and fortune took him, but the whims were short-lived and +the fortune invariably ended at the bottom of a glass. The deadly +tsith twisted his brain awry and took its toll and drove him on. He +had been "on the beach" on half a dozen planets. Earth he shunned. He +hadn't set foot there in more years than he could remember. At first +it was because he was ashamed, but even that was gone now. Only a cold +sickness was left in the soul of Joel Latham.</p> + +<p>He stared at this fellow tsith hound, this shell of a Martian, and +said, "What happened last night?"</p> + +<p>"What always happens," Kueelo said wearily. "We used up all our +credit. Penger kicked us out."</p> + +<p>It took Joel Latham a full minute to absorb that piece of information. +Mixed up with the agony in his eyes was a pensive look, but no +resentment; his need just now was too dire for resentment. He stared +across the swamp at the outpost's straggling street. Jake Penger was +the law here, and he owned the only supply of tsith. Latham recalled +him vaguely, a huge man, inscrutable, uncompromising.</p> + +<p>"Penger," he muttered. "That's it. I knew there was something I was +going to do."</p> + +<p>"What were you going to do?" Kueelo moved in closer, a sudden light of +interest in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"See Penger, of course."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I need tsith! And I'm going to need it worse before this day's over."</p> + +<p>Kueelo's eyes went dull again. "We both do. How do you think you're +going to manage it?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show you. Never let it be said that Joel Latham was helpless in +face of an emergency." With unsteady fingers he began a search of his +clothes. And that's when the final realization descended upon Joel +Latham. These weren't his clothes, not the ones he had when he came +here.</p> + +<p>He stared into the Martian's mango-like face. "I had a lucky piece. An +ancient Deimian jewel set in platinum. It's always been good for +credit."</p> + +<p>Kueelo's sigh was like a wind through withered leaves. "That," he +said, "was used up two nights ago."</p> + +<p>"I had a dis-gun, too! What happened to it?"</p> + +<p>"We used that up last night. Penger allowed us four drinks apiece for +it."</p> + +<p>Latham nodded miserably. "The space yacht. I guess it's already gone."</p> + +<p>"Two days ago. Your fine feathered friends shunned you when they +learned you were a tsith hound. But I stuck by you," Kueelo added +cunningly.</p> + +<p>Latham sank heavily onto a clump of swamp grass. He stared at his +right hand. It had started trembling. He couldn't stop the trembling. +He wondered dully if he was frightened, or if that was a result of the +terrible craving that twisted and writhed within him. He stared up +into the Martian's face.</p> + +<p>"Stranded," he said weakly. "But I'll get out of here. I'll hire out +on one of the freighters—"</p> + +<p>"You won't." Kueelo's voice was matter-of-fact again. "Not when they +learn you're a tsith hound. And Penger will let them know, you can bet +on that. He's a devil, that Penger."</p> + +<p>"But he's an Earthman, and I'm an Earthman!" Latham's voice was almost +a wail. His soul was withering within him.</p> + +<p>"Tell Penger that and see what he answers you. You're on the beach, my +friend. You've been there before, but this is the final beach—the +swampside of Venus. And here you'll stay until Penger is ready to let +you go. I've been here five years."</p> + +<p>Joel Latham put his head in his hands and tried to think. Kueelo's +voice droned on:</p> + +<p>"You'll work for Penger. You'll work in the swamps. An Earthman, a +Martian, a Ganymedian can do ten times the work of one of these +gweels." He gestured at the pallid-faced low-Venusians who moved +listlessly through the mud, pulling up the draanga-weed. "You'll work +for the amount of tsith Penger portions out to you, and glad to get +it."</p> + +<p>At the word <i>tsith</i>, Latham's head came up. The dawning fear was gone +from his eyes.</p> + +<p>"All right! I'll do it, but only for a while, mind you! I'll find a +way out of this. I'm getting back to the iridium fields on Callisto."</p> + +<p>He plunged wildly into the mud and sank to his waist. But it was the +thought of tsith that drove him on, not Callisto. Kueelo stood by and +watched, a thin, knowing smile creasing his leathery lips.</p> + +<p>A sort of frenzy had come upon Joel Latham. He tore at the stubborn +draanga-weed and brought it up dripping, tossing the long lengths +across his shoulder. He knew of this stuff.</p> + +<p>When properly synthesized draanga-weed had a medicinal value on the +various planets. Penger shipped it out four times a year, at a neat +little profit.</p> + +<p>Latham moved on. A yellowish fog had come down, the dreaded igniis +fatui. Unless one kept moving, decomposition of the blood set in, +essential salts within the body were dissolved and cellular activity +ceased. Latham grinned wryly. He doubted if it could touch him! There +was too much tsith within his alchemy. Nevertheless he moved and +worked ceaselessly. He could see that caricature of a Martian standing +back there watching.</p> + +<p>Then it happened; the thing happened which was to prove both a promise +and a despair. Joel Latham felt a hardness at his heel, an irritating +lump inside his neoprene boot.</p> + +<p>He moved back to higher ground, lifted his foot from the mire and +removed the boot. He shook something out into his hand. It was round +and hard and shiny, perhaps an inch in diameter. He held it aloft +between thumb and forefinger. The filtering sunlight struck it and +sent back lambent fires.</p> + +<p>Joel Latham stared and gasped, felt his senses reeling.</p> + +<p>"Purple!" he sobbed. "A purple Josmian!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h1.jpg" alt="H" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>e was clambering back toward Kueelo. Forgetting the sweat in his eyes +and the insufferable heat, he held the thing aloft.</p> + +<p>"Look at it!" he sobbed again. "Look at it shine! Look at the size!"</p> + +<p>Kueelo was indeed looking. His yellowish eyes bulged. "A Josmian," he +whispered. "We've struck it rich!"</p> + +<p>Joel Latham regarded the little caricature with astonishment. +Something of sanity came back to Joel Latham. "We?" he said. "I found +it. It's mine. I never knew you until four days ago!"</p> + +<p>"But I stood by you," the Martian wailed. "Your friends deserted you, +but I stood by. Aren't we partners?"</p> + +<p>Latham considered that. "No," he decided. "You stood by me as long as +I had credit for tsith! Until my money and lucky piece and dis-gun and +clothes were gone. Did you offer to help me out there?" he waved at +the swamp. "This Josmian is going to get me back to Callisto! Penger +ought to give me plenty for it."</p> + +<p>What happened next was too swift for Latham's reeling senses. A +claw-like hand darted out, and Kueelo snatched the Josmian; his other +hand swung around and caught Latham hard across the throat, sending +him back into the swamp where he staggered for a moment and sat down +abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" Latham protested. "Hey, look here—"</p> + +<p>But the Martian was scuttling away like a huge fiddler crab, the +Josmian clutched in one scrawny fist.</p> + +<p>Joel Latham came slowly up out of the mud, shaking his head and +grinning stupidly. It was very unkind of Kueelo to treat him like +this. He watched the Martian's departing figure. He made no effort to +follow—not at once—not until a strange new emotion, part frustration +and part despair, rose up in his breast, and close upon that the +dawning realization that he was being cheated of a last hope.</p> + +<p>Even then he didn't hurry. He followed Kueelo, swinging along in slow +loping strides, but not gaining. He felt weak and sick. That jagged +need for tsith was again sawing away at his entrails. His feet tangled +in the outlying swamp grass, he plunged headlong and picked himself +up.</p> + +<p>Kueelo was heading for higher ground away from the compound. Kueelo +was yelling as he ran. Latham wondered why the devil he was yelling. +Then, some distance ahead, Latham could see a third man lifting +himself from the ground. The Jovian! Suddenly Latham remembered him. +The Jovian had been with them last night too. Now Kueelo was tugging +at the man, yelling, showing him the Josmian.</p> + +<p>The Jovian hoisted his bulk erect, turned and waited for Latham, +grinning broadly. The grin didn't fool Latham. All Jovians grinned. +Some of them grinned while breaking a man's vertebrae. This was one of +the big ones, Latham noticed, and he was ugly, with long reaching arms +and wiry hair and a face that looked as if he'd slept in it.</p> + +<p>Latham stopped just short of him and reached out a hand. "I want the +Josmian," said Joel Latham.</p> + +<p>The Jovian came a step forward. "You leave Kueelo alone. Kueelo, he's +my friend."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to have that Josmian," said Joel Latham.</p> + +<p>The Jovian thrust out a huge fist with amazing speed. Latham caught at +it and hung on grimly. The Jovian brought his other hand around in an +arc that caught the Earthman across the face, sent him sprawling ten +feet away.</p> + +<p>"Josmian belongs to us, now. You leave us alone."</p> + +<p>Joel Latham sat there wiping blood from his face, watching the bestial +pair as they headed around the compound and into the matted jungle. +His last glimpse, just before darkness swallowed them up, was of +Kueelo grinning gleefully back at him.</p> + +<p>Latham sighed. He stood up. The blow had shaken some of the resolve +out of him. He turned east, northeast, east-by-north, like a compass +on a binge. Then he saw Penger watching him from the outer gate of the +compound. Apparently Penger had seen it all.</p> + +<p>Latham turned and ran toward Jake Penger.</p> + +<p>"You saw them!" Latham wailed. "You saw it. They stole my Josmian! +You've got to stop them!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_p.jpg" alt="P" width="32" height="40" /></div> +<p>enger planted his feet wide apart and surveyed the snivelling +Earthman. Penger's dark face was hard-cut and impassive. He'd seen +these tsith hounds before. They came here and died here. He hated them +all.</p> + +<p>Penger said, "They did what?"</p> + +<p>"The Josmian, the purple Josmian! I found it and they stole it from +me. You've got to help me, Penger!"</p> + +<p>Penger said, "You're crazy."</p> + +<p>"But I found it, I tell you! A big one. I'll sell it to you, Penger. +I'll—"</p> + +<p>Penger said, "You're crazy with tsith. There hasn't been a Josmian +found in this swamp for ten years."</p> + +<p>"Penger, listen to me—"</p> + +<p>Penger said, "Forget it. You want tsith? You'll have tsith. But you'll +work and you'll work hard. You'll get the draanga-weed out."</p> + +<p>"Penger, I'm an Earthman! I'm asking you as one Earthman to another—" +Latham stopped. He shivered. He looked into Penger's colorless eyes +and what he saw made his soul curl up within him.</p> + +<p>"You're a what? An Earthman? You <i>were</i> an Earthman! Now you're a +grubby little specimen of the genus tsith! You're a miserable, whining +little speck of matter wriggling toward the final transfixation! In +another year you won't even be that. You'll be dead and forgotten. +Don't come crawling to me talking about Earthmen!" The voice scraped +across Latham's naked nerve-ends. Penger's eyes blazed, and in his +trembling anger he almost raised a fist.</p> + +<p>Latham cringed away. From out of his forgotten past something came to +Latham. He stared at the loom of jungle where Kueelo and the Jovian +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"I've seen the day," he complained miserably, "when they wouldn't get +away with this!"</p> + +<p>"You've seen the day—period!"</p> + +<p>"I'm asking you once more, Penger. Help me! At least give me back the +dis-gun."</p> + +<p>"The dis-gun? Now what would you want with the dis-gun? You'd only +come trading it back to me. You bring in the draanga-weed, that's all +I'm interested in! And if you work especially hard, there'll be some +tsith—enough for your needs."</p> + +<p>Latham's eyes went fever-bright. His lips writhed back, a fit of +trembling took possession of his limbs. Almost, he succumbed to the +immediate vision of the tsith; almost, he forgot about the Josmian. +But somewhere deep in his alchemy was a well of stubbornness he never +knew he possessed.</p> + +<p>He clutched at Penger's sleeve as the man turned away. He found +himself screaming, "Then I'll go without the gun! I'm going to get +that Josmian, do you hear? You'll believe me then! You'll believe when +you see it, Penger!"</p> + +<p>Penger shook him away. "Sure, sure. You bring me a Josmian. Then we'll +talk a deal."</p> + +<p>He wanted to ask for a drink, just one drink of tsith right now, but +Latham had learned the essential fact that there could be no +compromising with this man. He reeled away. His brief outburst had +left him weak and trembling. Nevertheless, he went stumbling toward +the looming wall of jungle.</p> + +<p>He heard Penger's voice, a little annoyed: "Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>Latham stumbled on.</p> + +<p>"You fool, you don't know these jungles! You'll die in there! You +won't last an hour!"</p> + +<p>Latham didn't look back. Penger didn't call again. Latham could almost +imagine the man's shrug of indifference.</p> + +<p>Vision stopped five yards away. A soft glutinous muck, worse than the +outer swamp, tugged at his ankles. Corrupt fungi-growth and giant +spiked ferns reached far above him in the blanketing fog.</p> + +<p>Penger was wrong! He wouldn't die in here. Latham knew where he was +going. Kueelo had told him of the gweel village a mere few miles away, +where the foothills came down to touch the jungle edge. Kueelo and the +Jovian had undoubtedly headed for there and planned to lie low for a +while; when the time was propitious, they would sneak back to the +outpost and make a deal with Penger for the Josmian.</p> + +<p>The route was long and circuitous, hugging the fringe of jungle. The +gweels traveled it every day. But Latham had a better plan. By cutting +directly through the morass, he might just arrive there ahead of them!</p> + +<p>He would arm himself somehow and wait ... the element of surprise ... +that's all he could hope for now.</p> + +<p>He left the glutinous path, and to his surprise it wasn't so bad. The +growths towered many times higher but were not so dense. Occasionally +the sun evidenced itself against the paling of mists hundreds of feet +above. Lusty, primeval odors were almost an opiate to his senses.</p> + +<p>He plunged on for some ten minutes before he began to doubt. Gradually +the gloom came alive with motion and sound and unseen terrors. He +tried to segregate those that might mean danger. There came first a +gentle whirring of wings through the mist, sweeping close above him +and away. There came a gentle ripple through the foliage beside him, a +slither of sound that kept pace endlessly.</p> + +<p>Was this what Penger meant? Still Latham had seen nothing. He wished +he had his dis-gun, though.</p> + +<p>He wished it desperately, as a heavier sound came near. A grayish bulk +charged directly across his path. It was monstrous, semi-reptilian, +with wings arched sinuously along its spine as it half reared toward +him. Latham fell back against a tree bole and stood motionless, +staring into glittering feral eyes. The beast coughed raucously and +went thrashing back into the welter of jungle and mud.</p> + +<p>Latham stepped away. His foot caught in a root and he fell headlong. +Instantly, tiny spheres of diaphanous substance showered about his +head, to burst in a scatter of violet spores. Those that touched his +skin turned instantly blood-red, and seemed to grow, burrowing deep. +Frantically he pulled them from his flesh, leaving raw red sores.</p> + +<p>There was no trail to guide him now, but he did not immediately mind +that. He trekked the South Mars Desert and he had weathered the +jungles of Io. Tsith hound or no, he had an unerring instinct for +direction. He was sure the foothills couldn't be far ahead. But he +must have a weapon!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> silent dark shadow floated down. He glimpsed a razor-clawed +reptilian body, ten feet from wing to wing, its serpentine neck +darting wickedly. Latham threw himself aside as the tremendous whirr +of wings beat the air above his head. Close upon it came three others, +and Latham hit the mud. Looking back, he saw that one of the creatures +in its mad rush had hurtled into a giant fern, impaling itself upon a +four-foot thorn where it hung, screaming raucously as its life-fluid +ebbed away.</p> + +<p>Latham crawled from the spot. Reaching another fern, he managed to +climb high enough to tear away one of the thorns. It was crude, but it +would serve as a weapon!</p> + +<p>He was realizing his error now. He should have gone by the outer +route. He would never reach the gweel village ahead of Kueelo and the +Jovian, if indeed he reached it at all! Danger and death lay +everywhere about him. Time and again those serpentine shapes winged +down, silent and unwarning. He fended them off. Twice he speared them, +saw ocherous blood spill from their shiny integument. Other times he +wasn't so lucky, as sharp claws left a row of furrows in his back. The +miasmic yellow fog bit deep into his wounds.</p> + +<p>Hours resolved into a nightmare of mud and heat and battle. Other +creatures crossed his path or curved at him from out of the tangled +fronds. He was becoming awfully weak, but a terrible madness lay +across Latham's mind like a patina, driving him on. Through feverish +turmoil, through waves of heat and pain and nausea that encompassed +the universe, Joel Latham pursued his course.</p> + +<p>He never remembered the end. He never remembered coming out of that +deadly jungle. He pressed with his palms against moist earth, and +thought he must have been lying there for some time. His left arm was +shredded. His back was shredded. Inside his clothes he felt the warm +stickiness of his own blood. Outside his clothes was other substance +which he knew wasn't his blood.</p> + +<p>Something long and shiny lay beneath his hands. The thorn! He clutched +at it frantically.</p> + +<p>He felt if he could just lie there a moment, strength would come back +to him. But he didn't lie there. He tottered to his feet, and just a +few yards ahead the foothills sheered up and away from the jungle.</p> + +<p>Every step was an agony. He followed along the foothills, trying to +find the gweel village. He had to find it! That much he remembered. A +tiny Martian and a brute of a Jovian were there, and they had +something that belonged to him. He had quite forgotten now what it +was, but it meant something to him, he knew, it meant a great deal.</p> + +<p>He came upon the village, a cluster of clay huts high upon an +escarpment. Latham began climbing. He had to be careful now, something +pounded that warning into his brain. He saw groups of frail, +pallid-faced gweels moving about. They were harmless enough, Latham +knew that; but if those other two were here—</p> + +<p>He reached the level of the village and moved nearer, staying behind +rocks and clumps of growth. Then he saw Kueelo! The Martian huddled +beside an open fire, stirring some substance in a huge gourd. As +Latham watched, Kueelo opened a leather pouch at his waist and took +something out. The Josmian! He held it up to the flickering firelight, +and the purple sheen of the gem was no more brilliant than the gleeful +look that appeared in Kueelo's yellowish eyes.</p> + +<p>In that instant Latham almost leaped forward, but a tightness in his +temples stopped him. The distance was too great. And the Jovian must +be somewhere about! Quick surprise was his only chance. His gaze roved +up to the steepening cliff behind the village, and he saw the way.</p> + +<p>Still clutching the thorn-weapon, he followed a little ravine up to a +rocky abutment. Thence along a ledge, to a spot just above the hut +near Kueelo. He judged the distance, decided he could make it in two +leaps; first to the roof of the hut, then to the ground.</p> + +<p>Latham paused the merest instant, then launched himself downward. He +struck the roof with a force that jarred him to the teeth. He sprang +again, and that's when luck deserted him. His feet tangled in the +coarse thatchwork. He felt himself going over the edge, spinning +wildly off-balance, plunging headlong into the ground as the +thorn-weapon was flung far out of his grasp.</p> + +<p>With a startled oath, Kueelo whirled about. Latham had a vision of the +man's ludicrous face. Then a tiny, shiny tube appeared like magic in +the Martian's hand. A power-rapier. Latham had heard that Martians +carried them always. Tiny and easy to conceal. A press of a stud +released a rapier-like shaft of electronic power that reached perhaps +five feet.</p> + +<p>This occurred to Latham in a mere kaleidoscopic instant, then he was +propelling himself forward. His shoulder took Kueelo squarely in the +middle. Kueelo screamed as he went back. He tried to get the shiny +tube up. Latham got hold of the Martian's wrist and jerked it sharply +against his knee. Kueelo let out another yell and dropped the +power-tube.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he Martian was small, but possessed of a wiry strength. He was +squirming like an ocelan, bringing his knees up into Latham's groin. +Latham felt fainter every moment. He let go of the wrist and tried to +find the power-tube. Kueelo smashed a fist into his face.</p> + +<p>"I'll kill you, Earthman, I swear it! I've got to kill you!" The +Martian kept yelling that, his little voice going shrill. Then he +yelled, "Kraaz! Kraaz!" Latham got a hand around Kueelo's throat and +he didn't yell any more. The place was very still. Then Latham heard a +sloughing sound of heavy footsteps coming up the slope. Kraaz was the +Jovian! That's when the real panic hit Latham and he knew he had to +get the power-rapier.</p> + +<p>He fumbled and found the power-rapier. Kueelo brought a knee into his +stomach and Latham felt sick. He couldn't get the weapon around. +Kueelo had hold of his wrist and was bending it backward. Latham +thought: <i>Kraaz is coming! If I don't</i>—</p> + +<p>They twisted and rolled and Kueelo was trying with both hands for the +weapon. Latham held onto the weapon. Kueelo was using his knees to +keep him down and Latham kept feeling weaker. Kueelo kept coming +forward and making noises in his throat and he seemed big and heavy. +He kept going forward until he got a knee against Latham's throat. +Latham thought: <i>the Jovian's running now, he's almost here</i>—</p> + +<p>Kueelo pressed with his knee and Latham's head went back. His throat +was hurting and blocking the air. The knee pressed harder, and it was +bad. Then it was very bad. But he wouldn't let go of the power-rapier. +<i>The Jovian'll be here! I've got to</i>—</p> + +<p>Latham moved his hand beneath him. The hand twisted and brought up the +tube and his fingers touched a tiny stud. He didn't know which way it +was pointing, it was too late to wonder. His finger pressed the stud +and Kueelo was screaming. Then the pressure in his throat went away.</p> + +<p>He was on his feet as the Jovian came ploughing through the huddle of +frightened gweels. Latham tried to get the rapier-tube up, but his +arms were numbed and weary, a red mist swam before his eyes. A +powerful blow sent the weapon hurtling away, then the Jovian was upon +him; huge arms closed about him. It was useless to struggle. Latham +could see the man's lips writhing back in a soundless rage.</p> + +<p>Latham brought a knee up in a purely desperate move. Kraaz grunted, +stumbled and fell, but he didn't let go. They were rolling together +down the slope. The Jovian's arms were a vise crushing away his life. +Latham had a glimpse of a cliff falling sheerly away, with those +deadly thorn-ferns reaching up from below.</p> + +<p><i>If I'm to die, it's going to be my way!</i></p> + +<p>That was Latham's last conscious thought as he surged against the +Jovian's braking body; his fingers clung tenaciously, his last ebbing +strength carried them both over the edge. Kraaz's arms broke away. +Latham lashed out with his feet, then he was twisting, falling, far +out into space ... and that's all he remembered.</p> + +<p>Hands were tugging at him. A shrill chatter of voices rang in his +ears. Someone was holding a gourd to his lips, trying to pour a hot +sticky substance down his throat. Latham sat up and knocked the gourd +away. The little group of gweels fell back. Some of them were still +chattering, staring overhead with awe-stricken eyes.</p> + +<p>Latham looked up and saw Kraaz, the Jovian. The huge bulk hung twenty +feet above, tangled in the foliage of a giant fern.</p> + +<p>One thorn had entered his chest, another completely pierced his +throat. He was quite dead.</p> + +<p>Wearily, Latham made his way back up to the village. Kueelo still lay +there with the blackened hole through him. Latham tore away the +leather pouch holding the Josmian; he had fought through hell and +swamp and jungle for this, and by all the Redtails of Jupiter, he was +taking it back! He thought of Penger, and the tsith awaiting him +there. Most of all he thought of Callisto and the iridium fields, +which would mean much more tsith. Clutching the Josmian as though it +were his life's blood, Joel Latham staggered away from there and began +the long route back.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he men at the compound would not soon forget the night when Joel +Latham returned. Penger was there of course; some prospectors from the +near-by hills, the crew of a supply freighter, a motley scattering of +others whose business was unknown and unasked.</p> + +<p>They stared in disbelief at the caricature that suddenly came out of +the night to stand in the doorway of Penger's place. Clothes ripped in +shreds, mud and blood bespattered, one arm dangling, tangled hair that +looked unreal as if sewed to his scalp. An awful whiteness about the +lips and eyes that were dark empty pools. Maybe it had once been an +Earthman, but it was unrecognizable now! Joel Latham stood there for +an instant, seeking out Penger behind the bar. Black exhaustion +threatened to take him, but with an effort he hoisted himself up.</p> + +<p>He made his way across the room and slumped against the bar. Spacemen +moved out of his way. There was something about his eyes.</p> + +<p>Penger moved down to him, stood staring in amazement.</p> + +<p>"So it's you!" said Penger, and seemed unable to say more.</p> + +<p>"It's me, all right." Latham's eyes were searching out the rows of +bottles. Martian thasium, Earth bourbon, the potent arack from +Ganymede. It all left him cold. He was looking for the deadly tsith, +and he saw no sign of it. "It's me, all right," Joel Latham said +again, and he placed a closed fist upon the bar. "I've come to make +that deal with you, Penger!"</p> + +<p>His fist opened slowly, and Penger was staring down at the Josmian.</p> + +<p>"So it was true! And you really went after that thieving pair ... you +took it from them...." Penger's voice was unbelieving, but he +continued to stare at the Josmian.</p> + +<p>"It's yours if you want it, Penger. Dirt cheap! One thousand credits. +That'll be enough to get me out of here on the first freighter, and +set up for another try at the Callisto iridium fields. That's all I +want."</p> + +<p>Penger nodded, took the gem from Latham's hand and held it to the +light. "It's a beauty!" He replaced it in Latham's open palm. "But I +didn't promise to buy it! All I said was, I'd make you a deal."</p> + +<p>Latham felt his stomach turning over. Kueelo had said this man was a +devil! He got the words out: "What kind of a deal?"</p> + +<p>"You ask one thousand credits. I offer you one thousand glasses of +tsith! That'll last you a long time here."</p> + +<p>So that was the devil's plan! Latham felt a cold sickness come over +him. He was sick from his wounds, sick from exhaustion, sick for the +desperate need of tsith. He found himself saying, "One drink right +now! And eight hundred credits—"</p> + +<p>"No drinks. Not until we make the deal. One thousand glasses of tsith, +and that's my final offer."</p> + +<p>Latham stared about him. Any spaceman here would offer five times a +thousand credits for such a gem! But they sensed that this was private +between him and Penger, and no man dared go against Penger here at +Venusport. They watched the tableau in silence.</p> + +<p>"I've got to get to Callisto!" Latham cried wretchedly, fighting back +the sickness. "Here—it's yours—just one drink now, and enough +credits for passage!"</p> + +<p>"Why Callisto?" Penger's voice was mocking. "So you make another +strike there, and it all ends with tsith anyway!" He reached beneath +the bar, brought out a crystal flagon of tsith. For a moment he held +the sparkling blue liquid to the light, then placed it on the shelf +behind him.</p> + +<p>"Damn you!" Latham tried to leap forward, but almost collapsed as +waves of nausea shook him.</p> + +<p>"So. You see what I mean? In another year you'll be dead anyway, so +what does it matter?" Penger leaned forward, smiling thinly. +"Earthman, what did you say your name was? Joel Latham, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>Latham swayed and clutched at the bar. He glared at the man, wondering +what diabolical scheme he was planning now.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_p.jpg" alt="P" width="32" height="40" /></div> +<p>enger's eyes bored into him. "Joel Latham, I knew your father years +ago before he died on Mars. He was a fine man. A man of courage. I +wonder what Carl Latham would say now if he could see his son—"</p> + +<p>"People from here to Mars and back," Latham rasped, "are always +telling me they knew my father! I'm sick of hearing about it! All I +want to know, do you buy this Josmian or not?"</p> + +<p>"I may make you another deal. Suppose I give you the thousand credits. +But if I do, you don't go to Callisto."</p> + +<p>"Where, then?" Latham's brain was throbbing, seeking out the gimmick. +There must be a gimmick.</p> + +<p>Penger glanced at a tall, angular man who had stayed in the +background. A silent signal passed between them.</p> + +<p>"They need a chart man at Asteroid Station Three. The work is not hard +but it's a thankless, monotonous existence. You're alone on an +anchored world a half-mile in diameter. You sign on for three years, +and there you stay. You have every need within reason, including +technical library and one-way radio. A government ship brings supplies +once a year, and they don't include tsith."</p> + +<p>Penger paused and peered at Latham, whose face had gone pale beneath +the growth of beard. "Your task would be to chart the thousands of +rogue asteroids that cause havoc in the spacelanes every year. I +understand you once knew ray-screens, co-ordinates and parabolics. You +could brush up."</p> + +<p>"It seems ... you know a lot about me!" Latham's voice was frightened. +It didn't want to leave his throat. He was staring at the glittering +blue tsith behind Penger.</p> + +<p>Penger motioned to the tall, angular man with the bright eyes. The man +stepped to the bar.</p> + +<p>"This is George Elston of Interplanet Commerce. He's been looking for +months for the right man. Frankly, I don't think it's you"—Latham +felt the impact of Penger's scorn—"but he has a cruiser outside, and +he can up gravs within half an hour in case you are interested."</p> + +<p>"I'm not—" Latham continued to stare at the glittering blue flagon +just out of reach.</p> + +<p>"I thought not. Well, I've made you two offers. I'll buy your Josmian +for credits or tsith!" Penger counted out a thousand credits and +slapped them on the bar. He poured a glass of tsith and placed it down +gently. "Your choice, Latham! A choice of escape!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> terrible quiet had come over the room. Latham's eyes were +fever-bright, burning deep in his skull. His stomach twisted like a +nest of cold serpents. A choice of escape! There was no choice. There +was only tsith. He had only to take it. Penger was right. He would die +here within a year, but he had resigned himself to that.</p> + +<p>He would die out there on the Station, too; he would die a thousand +deaths without tsith. Three years! Latham had heard of a few tsith +hounds who tried it. He knew in every detail the agonies of body and +mind a man went through, before the absence of the stuff either broke +him of the terrible need, or left him a gibbering, mindless wreck. Not +many of them ever pulled through it.</p> + +<p>Joel Latham thought of all this and made his choice. He slammed the +Josmian on the bar; his trembling hand seized the glass.</p> + +<p>Penger shrugged and sighed as if this was what he expected. He took up +the Josmian. "The deal is closed, Latham! I'd better put this away in +my safe."</p> + +<p>He walked to the end of the bar. When he came back, the glass in +Latham's hand was empty.</p> + +<p>Penger met George Elston's gaze. "You'll have to keep looking, Elston. +You'll have to look for a man, not a—"</p> + +<p>The tall man smiled, stopping the words. He pointed to the mirror +where a splash of blue, glutinous tsith was dripping.</p> + +<p>Latham threw the empty glass at Penger's head. It missed him and +struck the mirror, bringing it down in shattering fragments. He seized +the bundle of credits and sent them flying.</p> + +<p>"Keep these too, Penger! Keep them all, damn you! I won't need them +where I'm going!" Tottering and pale, a fury still upon his lips, he +seized Elston's arm. "Come on! Make it quick—"</p> + +<p>Elston hurried with him. At the door, he pointed across the compound. +"The black cruiser, there beside the freighter. Get aboard. I'll be +with you in five minutes—"</p> + +<p>Penger was at the door too. They watched Latham hurrying, stumbling, +not looking back.</p> + +<p>Then Penger did an amazing thing. He opened his fist and he still held +the Josmian. He placed it on the floor, put a heavy heel on it and +came down with all his weight. There was an absurd little pop as the +Josmian shattered.</p> + +<p>Elston stared at him, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Not a Josmian," Penger grinned at him. "Glass. One of the cheap glass +baubles that sometimes come here on the trade freighters." He gripped +Elston's arm. "But don't tell him! Don't ever tell him, at least not +for three years."</p> + +<p>"But I thought he found it in the swamp!"</p> + +<p>"He found it in his boot, where I placed it when I found him lying out +there this morning in a stupor. An experiment, a whim—" Penger +shrugged. "I didn't know what would come of it."</p> + +<p>Joel Latham had almost reached the cruiser. They saw him pause, and +then he turned. Joel Latham raised a fist and shook it straight at +Penger.</p> + +<p>"Damn you, Penger! Damn you, damn you!"</p> + +<p>With that he stumbled up into the waiting lock as Elston hurried after +him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of One Purple Hope!, by Henry Hasse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE PURPLE HOPE! *** + +***** This file should be named 31307-h.htm or 31307-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/0/31307/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: One Purple Hope! + +Author: Henry Hasse + +Release Date: February 17, 2010 [EBook #31307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE PURPLE HOPE! *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Planet Stories July 1952. Extensive + research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on + this publication was renewed. + + + [Illustration: _If I'm going to die it's going to be my way--that + was Latham's last thought._] + + + ONE PURPLE HOPE! + + + By HENRY HASSE + + + _Once he had been a tall, straight spaceman, free as the + galaxies. Now Joel Latham was a tsith-addict, a beach-comber + at Venusport. Maybe he'd get one last chance...._ + + * * * * * + + + + +His sleep-drugged mind was slow to respond. He was lying face down, he +knew that. And he ought to get up. If he didn't get up he would drown. +Something hot and heavy, like a huge hand, was pressing him deeper +into the brackish mire. He pondered. Perhaps it were better to drown. +For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of the thought, then +decided against it. Plenty of time later for drowning. First there was +something he had to do! + +So it was that Joel Latham, Earthman, age thirty, occupation space +drifter, avocation tsith drinker, awakened on this most momentous of +mornings. + +Moaning in protest, he slowly rolled himself over. The sun slapped him +hard against the eyes. He blinked against the pain and saw that he was +still in Venusport; rather he was at the edge of the swamp near the +sprawling compound. Overhead the ionic field was aglow, humming +softly, beating back the obscurant mists. + +He managed to stand up. Some of the pallid-faced gweels, out in the +swamp, stopped their work to stare at him. Latham grimaced. Every +fiber of him, especially his brain, seemed to have been squeezed dry. +Then it came. He felt it coming and there was nothing he could do to +stop it. The hammering nausea took him suddenly about the middle, +bending him double. + +"I'm an Earthman," Joel Latham groaned aloud. That was invariably the +first reaction of the tsith hound, at least with Terrestrials who +indulged in the deadly stuff; a piteous protest half in defiance, half +in despair. The nausea reached up through his stomach, through his +chest and into his throat. It became more than nausea. It grew thorns +that stabbed inwardly, jagged edges that sawed away at his brain with +a terrible need. He fell forward on hands and knees ... and that's +when he saw the little Martian who crouched a few feet away, watching +him. + +"I went through mine a few minutes ago," the Martian said in a +monotone. "Yours will go away presently." + +"I know ... it will. Been through this ... before." + +"You obviously have. Many times." + +Many times was an understatement, Latham thought wretchedly. But this +was one of the worst ones, even worse than the time on Callisto. +Thinking about it didn't help. + +He turned his gaze back to the Martian. That didn't help either. + +Most Martians are lean and brown and ugly. This one was that, and +more. What had once been clothes were tattered and spattered with +swamp mud. The hair was a wisp, the teeth only a memory. The skin was +tight and leathery across the bony structure of the face, the eyes +distended and yellow, the unmistakable sign of a tsith hound. + +Latham grimaced, managed to grind out: "Do I look as bad as you?" + +"Worse," the little Martian was matter-of-fact. + +"I believe you." He looked long and hard at the Martian. "I remember +you now. Name's Kueelo. You were with me last night--" + +Kueelo grinned, showing the stumps of yellowish teeth. "Correction. +Four nights ago. That's when it began." + +Latham climbed to his feet. The reaction was going away but there was +still a dull apathy about his brain. Just to think was an aching +effort. + +"Four days," he muttered. "How'd I come here?" + +"So you don't remember that? You came on the pleasure yacht. The one +from Turibek." + + * * * * * + +"Turibek--" Latham was remembering now. Turibek, capital city of +Venus, far on the other side of the planet. He'd had a small stake and +was lucky at the gaming tables. Before that it was Callisto, where he +had struck it rich in the iridium fields; anyway, rich enough to keep +him supplied with tsith for a year. Before Callisto it had been Mars. +He had worked the rocket rooms of Jovian freighters, he had served as +tourist guide in the dark little streets of Ganymede City, and when +fortune was lowest he had begged in those streets and done worse +things than begging. Before that he couldn't remember. He went +wherever whim and fortune took him, but the whims were short-lived and +the fortune invariably ended at the bottom of a glass. The deadly +tsith twisted his brain awry and took its toll and drove him on. He +had been "on the beach" on half a dozen planets. Earth he shunned. He +hadn't set foot there in more years than he could remember. At first +it was because he was ashamed, but even that was gone now. Only a cold +sickness was left in the soul of Joel Latham. + +He stared at this fellow tsith hound, this shell of a Martian, and +said, "What happened last night?" + +"What always happens," Kueelo said wearily. "We used up all our +credit. Penger kicked us out." + +It took Joel Latham a full minute to absorb that piece of information. +Mixed up with the agony in his eyes was a pensive look, but no +resentment; his need just now was too dire for resentment. He stared +across the swamp at the outpost's straggling street. Jake Penger was +the law here, and he owned the only supply of tsith. Latham recalled +him vaguely, a huge man, inscrutable, uncompromising. + +"Penger," he muttered. "That's it. I knew there was something I was +going to do." + +"What were you going to do?" Kueelo moved in closer, a sudden light of +interest in his eyes. + +"See Penger, of course." + +"Why?" + +"I need tsith! And I'm going to need it worse before this day's over." + +Kueelo's eyes went dull again. "We both do. How do you think you're +going to manage it?" + +"I'll show you. Never let it be said that Joel Latham was helpless in +face of an emergency." With unsteady fingers he began a search of his +clothes. And that's when the final realization descended upon Joel +Latham. These weren't his clothes, not the ones he had when he came +here. + +He stared into the Martian's mango-like face. "I had a lucky piece. An +ancient Deimian jewel set in platinum. It's always been good for +credit." + +Kueelo's sigh was like a wind through withered leaves. "That," he +said, "was used up two nights ago." + +"I had a dis-gun, too! What happened to it?" + +"We used that up last night. Penger allowed us four drinks apiece for +it." + +Latham nodded miserably. "The space yacht. I guess it's already gone." + +"Two days ago. Your fine feathered friends shunned you when they +learned you were a tsith hound. But I stuck by you," Kueelo added +cunningly. + +Latham sank heavily onto a clump of swamp grass. He stared at his +right hand. It had started trembling. He couldn't stop the trembling. +He wondered dully if he was frightened, or if that was a result of the +terrible craving that twisted and writhed within him. He stared up +into the Martian's face. + +"Stranded," he said weakly. "But I'll get out of here. I'll hire out +on one of the freighters--" + +"You won't." Kueelo's voice was matter-of-fact again. "Not when they +learn you're a tsith hound. And Penger will let them know, you can bet +on that. He's a devil, that Penger." + +"But he's an Earthman, and I'm an Earthman!" Latham's voice was almost +a wail. His soul was withering within him. + +"Tell Penger that and see what he answers you. You're on the beach, my +friend. You've been there before, but this is the final beach--the +swampside of Venus. And here you'll stay until Penger is ready to let +you go. I've been here five years." + +Joel Latham put his head in his hands and tried to think. Kueelo's +voice droned on: + +"You'll work for Penger. You'll work in the swamps. An Earthman, a +Martian, a Ganymedian can do ten times the work of one of these +gweels." He gestured at the pallid-faced low-Venusians who moved +listlessly through the mud, pulling up the draanga-weed. "You'll work +for the amount of tsith Penger portions out to you, and glad to get +it." + +At the word _tsith_, Latham's head came up. The dawning fear was gone +from his eyes. + +"All right! I'll do it, but only for a while, mind you! I'll find a +way out of this. I'm getting back to the iridium fields on Callisto." + +He plunged wildly into the mud and sank to his waist. But it was the +thought of tsith that drove him on, not Callisto. Kueelo stood by and +watched, a thin, knowing smile creasing his leathery lips. + +A sort of frenzy had come upon Joel Latham. He tore at the stubborn +draanga-weed and brought it up dripping, tossing the long lengths +across his shoulder. He knew of this stuff. + +When properly synthesized draanga-weed had a medicinal value on the +various planets. Penger shipped it out four times a year, at a neat +little profit. + +Latham moved on. A yellowish fog had come down, the dreaded igniis +fatui. Unless one kept moving, decomposition of the blood set in, +essential salts within the body were dissolved and cellular activity +ceased. Latham grinned wryly. He doubted if it could touch him! There +was too much tsith within his alchemy. Nevertheless he moved and +worked ceaselessly. He could see that caricature of a Martian standing +back there watching. + +Then it happened; the thing happened which was to prove both a promise +and a despair. Joel Latham felt a hardness at his heel, an irritating +lump inside his neoprene boot. + +He moved back to higher ground, lifted his foot from the mire and +removed the boot. He shook something out into his hand. It was round +and hard and shiny, perhaps an inch in diameter. He held it aloft +between thumb and forefinger. The filtering sunlight struck it and +sent back lambent fires. + +Joel Latham stared and gasped, felt his senses reeling. + +"Purple!" he sobbed. "A purple Josmian!" + + * * * * * + +He was clambering back toward Kueelo. Forgetting the sweat in his eyes +and the insufferable heat, he held the thing aloft. + +"Look at it!" he sobbed again. "Look at it shine! Look at the size!" + +Kueelo was indeed looking. His yellowish eyes bulged. "A Josmian," he +whispered. "We've struck it rich!" + +Joel Latham regarded the little caricature with astonishment. +Something of sanity came back to Joel Latham. "We?" he said. "I found +it. It's mine. I never knew you until four days ago!" + +"But I stood by you," the Martian wailed. "Your friends deserted you, +but I stood by. Aren't we partners?" + +Latham considered that. "No," he decided. "You stood by me as long as +I had credit for tsith! Until my money and lucky piece and dis-gun and +clothes were gone. Did you offer to help me out there?" he waved at +the swamp. "This Josmian is going to get me back to Callisto! Penger +ought to give me plenty for it." + +What happened next was too swift for Latham's reeling senses. A +claw-like hand darted out, and Kueelo snatched the Josmian; his other +hand swung around and caught Latham hard across the throat, sending +him back into the swamp where he staggered for a moment and sat down +abruptly. + +"Hey!" Latham protested. "Hey, look here--" + +But the Martian was scuttling away like a huge fiddler crab, the +Josmian clutched in one scrawny fist. + +Joel Latham came slowly up out of the mud, shaking his head and +grinning stupidly. It was very unkind of Kueelo to treat him like +this. He watched the Martian's departing figure. He made no effort to +follow--not at once--not until a strange new emotion, part frustration +and part despair, rose up in his breast, and close upon that the +dawning realization that he was being cheated of a last hope. + +Even then he didn't hurry. He followed Kueelo, swinging along in slow +loping strides, but not gaining. He felt weak and sick. That jagged +need for tsith was again sawing away at his entrails. His feet tangled +in the outlying swamp grass, he plunged headlong and picked himself +up. + +Kueelo was heading for higher ground away from the compound. Kueelo +was yelling as he ran. Latham wondered why the devil he was yelling. +Then, some distance ahead, Latham could see a third man lifting +himself from the ground. The Jovian! Suddenly Latham remembered him. +The Jovian had been with them last night too. Now Kueelo was tugging +at the man, yelling, showing him the Josmian. + +The Jovian hoisted his bulk erect, turned and waited for Latham, +grinning broadly. The grin didn't fool Latham. All Jovians grinned. +Some of them grinned while breaking a man's vertebrae. This was one of +the big ones, Latham noticed, and he was ugly, with long reaching arms +and wiry hair and a face that looked as if he'd slept in it. + +Latham stopped just short of him and reached out a hand. "I want the +Josmian," said Joel Latham. + +The Jovian came a step forward. "You leave Kueelo alone. Kueelo, he's +my friend." + +"I'm going to have that Josmian," said Joel Latham. + +The Jovian thrust out a huge fist with amazing speed. Latham caught at +it and hung on grimly. The Jovian brought his other hand around in an +arc that caught the Earthman across the face, sent him sprawling ten +feet away. + +"Josmian belongs to us, now. You leave us alone." + +Joel Latham sat there wiping blood from his face, watching the bestial +pair as they headed around the compound and into the matted jungle. +His last glimpse, just before darkness swallowed them up, was of +Kueelo grinning gleefully back at him. + +Latham sighed. He stood up. The blow had shaken some of the resolve +out of him. He turned east, northeast, east-by-north, like a compass +on a binge. Then he saw Penger watching him from the outer gate of the +compound. Apparently Penger had seen it all. + +Latham turned and ran toward Jake Penger. + +"You saw them!" Latham wailed. "You saw it. They stole my Josmian! +You've got to stop them!" + + * * * * * + +Penger planted his feet wide apart and surveyed the snivelling +Earthman. Penger's dark face was hard-cut and impassive. He'd seen +these tsith hounds before. They came here and died here. He hated them +all. + +Penger said, "They did what?" + +"The Josmian, the purple Josmian! I found it and they stole it from +me. You've got to help me, Penger!" + +Penger said, "You're crazy." + +"But I found it, I tell you! A big one. I'll sell it to you, Penger. +I'll--" + +Penger said, "You're crazy with tsith. There hasn't been a Josmian +found in this swamp for ten years." + +"Penger, listen to me--" + +Penger said, "Forget it. You want tsith? You'll have tsith. But you'll +work and you'll work hard. You'll get the draanga-weed out." + +"Penger, I'm an Earthman! I'm asking you as one Earthman to another--" +Latham stopped. He shivered. He looked into Penger's colorless eyes +and what he saw made his soul curl up within him. + +"You're a what? An Earthman? You _were_ an Earthman! Now you're a +grubby little specimen of the genus tsith! You're a miserable, whining +little speck of matter wriggling toward the final transfixation! In +another year you won't even be that. You'll be dead and forgotten. +Don't come crawling to me talking about Earthmen!" The voice scraped +across Latham's naked nerve-ends. Penger's eyes blazed, and in his +trembling anger he almost raised a fist. + +Latham cringed away. From out of his forgotten past something came to +Latham. He stared at the loom of jungle where Kueelo and the Jovian +had disappeared. + +"I've seen the day," he complained miserably, "when they wouldn't get +away with this!" + +"You've seen the day--period!" + +"I'm asking you once more, Penger. Help me! At least give me back the +dis-gun." + +"The dis-gun? Now what would you want with the dis-gun? You'd only +come trading it back to me. You bring in the draanga-weed, that's all +I'm interested in! And if you work especially hard, there'll be some +tsith--enough for your needs." + +Latham's eyes went fever-bright. His lips writhed back, a fit of +trembling took possession of his limbs. Almost, he succumbed to the +immediate vision of the tsith; almost, he forgot about the Josmian. +But somewhere deep in his alchemy was a well of stubbornness he never +knew he possessed. + +He clutched at Penger's sleeve as the man turned away. He found +himself screaming, "Then I'll go without the gun! I'm going to get +that Josmian, do you hear? You'll believe me then! You'll believe when +you see it, Penger!" + +Penger shook him away. "Sure, sure. You bring me a Josmian. Then we'll +talk a deal." + +He wanted to ask for a drink, just one drink of tsith right now, but +Latham had learned the essential fact that there could be no +compromising with this man. He reeled away. His brief outburst had +left him weak and trembling. Nevertheless, he went stumbling toward +the looming wall of jungle. + +He heard Penger's voice, a little annoyed: "Where are you going?" + +Latham stumbled on. + +"You fool, you don't know these jungles! You'll die in there! You +won't last an hour!" + +Latham didn't look back. Penger didn't call again. Latham could almost +imagine the man's shrug of indifference. + +Vision stopped five yards away. A soft glutinous muck, worse than the +outer swamp, tugged at his ankles. Corrupt fungi-growth and giant +spiked ferns reached far above him in the blanketing fog. + +Penger was wrong! He wouldn't die in here. Latham knew where he was +going. Kueelo had told him of the gweel village a mere few miles away, +where the foothills came down to touch the jungle edge. Kueelo and the +Jovian had undoubtedly headed for there and planned to lie low for a +while; when the time was propitious, they would sneak back to the +outpost and make a deal with Penger for the Josmian. + +The route was long and circuitous, hugging the fringe of jungle. The +gweels traveled it every day. But Latham had a better plan. By cutting +directly through the morass, he might just arrive there ahead of them! + +He would arm himself somehow and wait ... the element of surprise ... +that's all he could hope for now. + +He left the glutinous path, and to his surprise it wasn't so bad. The +growths towered many times higher but were not so dense. Occasionally +the sun evidenced itself against the paling of mists hundreds of feet +above. Lusty, primeval odors were almost an opiate to his senses. + +He plunged on for some ten minutes before he began to doubt. Gradually +the gloom came alive with motion and sound and unseen terrors. He +tried to segregate those that might mean danger. There came first a +gentle whirring of wings through the mist, sweeping close above him +and away. There came a gentle ripple through the foliage beside him, a +slither of sound that kept pace endlessly. + +Was this what Penger meant? Still Latham had seen nothing. He wished +he had his dis-gun, though. + +He wished it desperately, as a heavier sound came near. A grayish bulk +charged directly across his path. It was monstrous, semi-reptilian, +with wings arched sinuously along its spine as it half reared toward +him. Latham fell back against a tree bole and stood motionless, +staring into glittering feral eyes. The beast coughed raucously and +went thrashing back into the welter of jungle and mud. + +Latham stepped away. His foot caught in a root and he fell headlong. +Instantly, tiny spheres of diaphanous substance showered about his +head, to burst in a scatter of violet spores. Those that touched his +skin turned instantly blood-red, and seemed to grow, burrowing deep. +Frantically he pulled them from his flesh, leaving raw red sores. + +There was no trail to guide him now, but he did not immediately mind +that. He trekked the South Mars Desert and he had weathered the +jungles of Io. Tsith hound or no, he had an unerring instinct for +direction. He was sure the foothills couldn't be far ahead. But he +must have a weapon! + + * * * * * + +A silent dark shadow floated down. He glimpsed a razor-clawed +reptilian body, ten feet from wing to wing, its serpentine neck +darting wickedly. Latham threw himself aside as the tremendous whirr +of wings beat the air above his head. Close upon it came three others, +and Latham hit the mud. Looking back, he saw that one of the creatures +in its mad rush had hurtled into a giant fern, impaling itself upon a +four-foot thorn where it hung, screaming raucously as its life-fluid +ebbed away. + +Latham crawled from the spot. Reaching another fern, he managed to +climb high enough to tear away one of the thorns. It was crude, but it +would serve as a weapon! + +He was realizing his error now. He should have gone by the outer +route. He would never reach the gweel village ahead of Kueelo and the +Jovian, if indeed he reached it at all! Danger and death lay +everywhere about him. Time and again those serpentine shapes winged +down, silent and unwarning. He fended them off. Twice he speared them, +saw ocherous blood spill from their shiny integument. Other times he +wasn't so lucky, as sharp claws left a row of furrows in his back. The +miasmic yellow fog bit deep into his wounds. + +Hours resolved into a nightmare of mud and heat and battle. Other +creatures crossed his path or curved at him from out of the tangled +fronds. He was becoming awfully weak, but a terrible madness lay +across Latham's mind like a patina, driving him on. Through feverish +turmoil, through waves of heat and pain and nausea that encompassed +the universe, Joel Latham pursued his course. + +He never remembered the end. He never remembered coming out of that +deadly jungle. He pressed with his palms against moist earth, and +thought he must have been lying there for some time. His left arm was +shredded. His back was shredded. Inside his clothes he felt the warm +stickiness of his own blood. Outside his clothes was other substance +which he knew wasn't his blood. + +Something long and shiny lay beneath his hands. The thorn! He clutched +at it frantically. + +He felt if he could just lie there a moment, strength would come back +to him. But he didn't lie there. He tottered to his feet, and just a +few yards ahead the foothills sheered up and away from the jungle. + +Every step was an agony. He followed along the foothills, trying to +find the gweel village. He had to find it! That much he remembered. A +tiny Martian and a brute of a Jovian were there, and they had +something that belonged to him. He had quite forgotten now what it +was, but it meant something to him, he knew, it meant a great deal. + +He came upon the village, a cluster of clay huts high upon an +escarpment. Latham began climbing. He had to be careful now, something +pounded that warning into his brain. He saw groups of frail, +pallid-faced gweels moving about. They were harmless enough, Latham +knew that; but if those other two were here-- + +He reached the level of the village and moved nearer, staying behind +rocks and clumps of growth. Then he saw Kueelo! The Martian huddled +beside an open fire, stirring some substance in a huge gourd. As +Latham watched, Kueelo opened a leather pouch at his waist and took +something out. The Josmian! He held it up to the flickering firelight, +and the purple sheen of the gem was no more brilliant than the gleeful +look that appeared in Kueelo's yellowish eyes. + +In that instant Latham almost leaped forward, but a tightness in his +temples stopped him. The distance was too great. And the Jovian must +be somewhere about! Quick surprise was his only chance. His gaze roved +up to the steepening cliff behind the village, and he saw the way. + +Still clutching the thorn-weapon, he followed a little ravine up to a +rocky abutment. Thence along a ledge, to a spot just above the hut +near Kueelo. He judged the distance, decided he could make it in two +leaps; first to the roof of the hut, then to the ground. + +Latham paused the merest instant, then launched himself downward. He +struck the roof with a force that jarred him to the teeth. He sprang +again, and that's when luck deserted him. His feet tangled in the +coarse thatchwork. He felt himself going over the edge, spinning +wildly off-balance, plunging headlong into the ground as the +thorn-weapon was flung far out of his grasp. + +With a startled oath, Kueelo whirled about. Latham had a vision of the +man's ludicrous face. Then a tiny, shiny tube appeared like magic in +the Martian's hand. A power-rapier. Latham had heard that Martians +carried them always. Tiny and easy to conceal. A press of a stud +released a rapier-like shaft of electronic power that reached perhaps +five feet. + +This occurred to Latham in a mere kaleidoscopic instant, then he was +propelling himself forward. His shoulder took Kueelo squarely in the +middle. Kueelo screamed as he went back. He tried to get the shiny +tube up. Latham got hold of the Martian's wrist and jerked it sharply +against his knee. Kueelo let out another yell and dropped the +power-tube. + + * * * * * + +The Martian was small, but possessed of a wiry strength. He was +squirming like an ocelan, bringing his knees up into Latham's groin. +Latham felt fainter every moment. He let go of the wrist and tried to +find the power-tube. Kueelo smashed a fist into his face. + +"I'll kill you, Earthman, I swear it! I've got to kill you!" The +Martian kept yelling that, his little voice going shrill. Then he +yelled, "Kraaz! Kraaz!" Latham got a hand around Kueelo's throat and +he didn't yell any more. The place was very still. Then Latham heard a +sloughing sound of heavy footsteps coming up the slope. Kraaz was the +Jovian! That's when the real panic hit Latham and he knew he had to +get the power-rapier. + +He fumbled and found the power-rapier. Kueelo brought a knee into his +stomach and Latham felt sick. He couldn't get the weapon around. +Kueelo had hold of his wrist and was bending it backward. Latham +thought: _Kraaz is coming! If I don't_-- + +They twisted and rolled and Kueelo was trying with both hands for the +weapon. Latham held onto the weapon. Kueelo was using his knees to +keep him down and Latham kept feeling weaker. Kueelo kept coming +forward and making noises in his throat and he seemed big and heavy. +He kept going forward until he got a knee against Latham's throat. +Latham thought: _the Jovian's running now, he's almost here_-- + +Kueelo pressed with his knee and Latham's head went back. His throat +was hurting and blocking the air. The knee pressed harder, and it was +bad. Then it was very bad. But he wouldn't let go of the power-rapier. +_The Jovian'll be here! I've got to_-- + +Latham moved his hand beneath him. The hand twisted and brought up the +tube and his fingers touched a tiny stud. He didn't know which way it +was pointing, it was too late to wonder. His finger pressed the stud +and Kueelo was screaming. Then the pressure in his throat went away. + +He was on his feet as the Jovian came ploughing through the huddle of +frightened gweels. Latham tried to get the rapier-tube up, but his +arms were numbed and weary, a red mist swam before his eyes. A +powerful blow sent the weapon hurtling away, then the Jovian was upon +him; huge arms closed about him. It was useless to struggle. Latham +could see the man's lips writhing back in a soundless rage. + +Latham brought a knee up in a purely desperate move. Kraaz grunted, +stumbled and fell, but he didn't let go. They were rolling together +down the slope. The Jovian's arms were a vise crushing away his life. +Latham had a glimpse of a cliff falling sheerly away, with those +deadly thorn-ferns reaching up from below. + +_If I'm to die, it's going to be my way!_ + +That was Latham's last conscious thought as he surged against the +Jovian's braking body; his fingers clung tenaciously, his last ebbing +strength carried them both over the edge. Kraaz's arms broke away. +Latham lashed out with his feet, then he was twisting, falling, far +out into space ... and that's all he remembered. + +Hands were tugging at him. A shrill chatter of voices rang in his +ears. Someone was holding a gourd to his lips, trying to pour a hot +sticky substance down his throat. Latham sat up and knocked the gourd +away. The little group of gweels fell back. Some of them were still +chattering, staring overhead with awe-stricken eyes. + +Latham looked up and saw Kraaz, the Jovian. The huge bulk hung twenty +feet above, tangled in the foliage of a giant fern. + +One thorn had entered his chest, another completely pierced his +throat. He was quite dead. + +Wearily, Latham made his way back up to the village. Kueelo still lay +there with the blackened hole through him. Latham tore away the +leather pouch holding the Josmian; he had fought through hell and +swamp and jungle for this, and by all the Redtails of Jupiter, he was +taking it back! He thought of Penger, and the tsith awaiting him +there. Most of all he thought of Callisto and the iridium fields, +which would mean much more tsith. Clutching the Josmian as though it +were his life's blood, Joel Latham staggered away from there and began +the long route back. + + * * * * * + +The men at the compound would not soon forget the night when Joel +Latham returned. Penger was there of course; some prospectors from the +near-by hills, the crew of a supply freighter, a motley scattering of +others whose business was unknown and unasked. + +They stared in disbelief at the caricature that suddenly came out of +the night to stand in the doorway of Penger's place. Clothes ripped in +shreds, mud and blood bespattered, one arm dangling, tangled hair that +looked unreal as if sewed to his scalp. An awful whiteness about the +lips and eyes that were dark empty pools. Maybe it had once been an +Earthman, but it was unrecognizable now! Joel Latham stood there for +an instant, seeking out Penger behind the bar. Black exhaustion +threatened to take him, but with an effort he hoisted himself up. + +He made his way across the room and slumped against the bar. Spacemen +moved out of his way. There was something about his eyes. + +Penger moved down to him, stood staring in amazement. + +"So it's you!" said Penger, and seemed unable to say more. + +"It's me, all right." Latham's eyes were searching out the rows of +bottles. Martian thasium, Earth bourbon, the potent arack from +Ganymede. It all left him cold. He was looking for the deadly tsith, +and he saw no sign of it. "It's me, all right," Joel Latham said +again, and he placed a closed fist upon the bar. "I've come to make +that deal with you, Penger!" + +His fist opened slowly, and Penger was staring down at the Josmian. + +"So it was true! And you really went after that thieving pair ... you +took it from them...." Penger's voice was unbelieving, but he +continued to stare at the Josmian. + +"It's yours if you want it, Penger. Dirt cheap! One thousand credits. +That'll be enough to get me out of here on the first freighter, and +set up for another try at the Callisto iridium fields. That's all I +want." + +Penger nodded, took the gem from Latham's hand and held it to the +light. "It's a beauty!" He replaced it in Latham's open palm. "But I +didn't promise to buy it! All I said was, I'd make you a deal." + +Latham felt his stomach turning over. Kueelo had said this man was a +devil! He got the words out: "What kind of a deal?" + +"You ask one thousand credits. I offer you one thousand glasses of +tsith! That'll last you a long time here." + +So that was the devil's plan! Latham felt a cold sickness come over +him. He was sick from his wounds, sick from exhaustion, sick for the +desperate need of tsith. He found himself saying, "One drink right +now! And eight hundred credits--" + +"No drinks. Not until we make the deal. One thousand glasses of tsith, +and that's my final offer." + +Latham stared about him. Any spaceman here would offer five times a +thousand credits for such a gem! But they sensed that this was private +between him and Penger, and no man dared go against Penger here at +Venusport. They watched the tableau in silence. + +"I've got to get to Callisto!" Latham cried wretchedly, fighting back +the sickness. "Here--it's yours--just one drink now, and enough +credits for passage!" + +"Why Callisto?" Penger's voice was mocking. "So you make another +strike there, and it all ends with tsith anyway!" He reached beneath +the bar, brought out a crystal flagon of tsith. For a moment he held +the sparkling blue liquid to the light, then placed it on the shelf +behind him. + +"Damn you!" Latham tried to leap forward, but almost collapsed as +waves of nausea shook him. + +"So. You see what I mean? In another year you'll be dead anyway, so +what does it matter?" Penger leaned forward, smiling thinly. +"Earthman, what did you say your name was? Joel Latham, wasn't it?" + +Latham swayed and clutched at the bar. He glared at the man, wondering +what diabolical scheme he was planning now. + + * * * * * + +Penger's eyes bored into him. "Joel Latham, I knew your father years +ago before he died on Mars. He was a fine man. A man of courage. I +wonder what Carl Latham would say now if he could see his son--" + +"People from here to Mars and back," Latham rasped, "are always +telling me they knew my father! I'm sick of hearing about it! All I +want to know, do you buy this Josmian or not?" + +"I may make you another deal. Suppose I give you the thousand credits. +But if I do, you don't go to Callisto." + +"Where, then?" Latham's brain was throbbing, seeking out the gimmick. +There must be a gimmick. + +Penger glanced at a tall, angular man who had stayed in the +background. A silent signal passed between them. + +"They need a chart man at Asteroid Station Three. The work is not hard +but it's a thankless, monotonous existence. You're alone on an +anchored world a half-mile in diameter. You sign on for three years, +and there you stay. You have every need within reason, including +technical library and one-way radio. A government ship brings supplies +once a year, and they don't include tsith." + +Penger paused and peered at Latham, whose face had gone pale beneath +the growth of beard. "Your task would be to chart the thousands of +rogue asteroids that cause havoc in the spacelanes every year. I +understand you once knew ray-screens, co-ordinates and parabolics. You +could brush up." + +"It seems ... you know a lot about me!" Latham's voice was frightened. +It didn't want to leave his throat. He was staring at the glittering +blue tsith behind Penger. + +Penger motioned to the tall, angular man with the bright eyes. The man +stepped to the bar. + +"This is George Elston of Interplanet Commerce. He's been looking for +months for the right man. Frankly, I don't think it's you"--Latham +felt the impact of Penger's scorn--"but he has a cruiser outside, and +he can up gravs within half an hour in case you are interested." + +"I'm not--" Latham continued to stare at the glittering blue flagon +just out of reach. + +"I thought not. Well, I've made you two offers. I'll buy your Josmian +for credits or tsith!" Penger counted out a thousand credits and +slapped them on the bar. He poured a glass of tsith and placed it down +gently. "Your choice, Latham! A choice of escape!" + + * * * * * + +A terrible quiet had come over the room. Latham's eyes were +fever-bright, burning deep in his skull. His stomach twisted like a +nest of cold serpents. A choice of escape! There was no choice. There +was only tsith. He had only to take it. Penger was right. He would die +here within a year, but he had resigned himself to that. + +He would die out there on the Station, too; he would die a thousand +deaths without tsith. Three years! Latham had heard of a few tsith +hounds who tried it. He knew in every detail the agonies of body and +mind a man went through, before the absence of the stuff either broke +him of the terrible need, or left him a gibbering, mindless wreck. Not +many of them ever pulled through it. + +Joel Latham thought of all this and made his choice. He slammed the +Josmian on the bar; his trembling hand seized the glass. + +Penger shrugged and sighed as if this was what he expected. He took up +the Josmian. "The deal is closed, Latham! I'd better put this away in +my safe." + +He walked to the end of the bar. When he came back, the glass in +Latham's hand was empty. + +Penger met George Elston's gaze. "You'll have to keep looking, Elston. +You'll have to look for a man, not a--" + +The tall man smiled, stopping the words. He pointed to the mirror +where a splash of blue, glutinous tsith was dripping. + +Latham threw the empty glass at Penger's head. It missed him and +struck the mirror, bringing it down in shattering fragments. He seized +the bundle of credits and sent them flying. + +"Keep these too, Penger! Keep them all, damn you! I won't need them +where I'm going!" Tottering and pale, a fury still upon his lips, he +seized Elston's arm. "Come on! Make it quick--" + +Elston hurried with him. At the door, he pointed across the compound. +"The black cruiser, there beside the freighter. Get aboard. I'll be +with you in five minutes--" + +Penger was at the door too. They watched Latham hurrying, stumbling, +not looking back. + +Then Penger did an amazing thing. He opened his fist and he still held +the Josmian. He placed it on the floor, put a heavy heel on it and +came down with all his weight. There was an absurd little pop as the +Josmian shattered. + +Elston stared at him, bewildered. + +"Not a Josmian," Penger grinned at him. "Glass. One of the cheap glass +baubles that sometimes come here on the trade freighters." He gripped +Elston's arm. "But don't tell him! Don't ever tell him, at least not +for three years." + +"But I thought he found it in the swamp!" + +"He found it in his boot, where I placed it when I found him lying out +there this morning in a stupor. An experiment, a whim--" Penger +shrugged. "I didn't know what would come of it." + +Joel Latham had almost reached the cruiser. They saw him pause, and +then he turned. Joel Latham raised a fist and shook it straight at +Penger. + +"Damn you, Penger! Damn you, damn you!" + +With that he stumbled up into the waiting lock as Elston hurried after +him. + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of One Purple Hope!, by Henry Hasse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONE PURPLE HOPE! *** + +***** This file should be named 31307.txt or 31307.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/0/31307/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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