"That's nice," Harry Loren nodded. His wild hair brushed over his
shoulders and reflected its yellowness against the sun. The knife then,
the one that Kirk had thought about a moment ago, appeared in the
figure's hand. "_Bastard_," Harry Loren hissed, and he was leaping at
Kirk, the knife making a sweep toward Kirk's stomach.
Something kept Kirk from squeezing the trigger, and instead he swung his
pistol so that it struck the brown, weathered knuckles. The knife flew
into a thicket and Loren, screaming, was upon Kirk, reaching for Kirk's
neck. Kirk wrenched backward and at the same time swung the barrel of
the pistol toward the yellow flying hair. There was a cracking sound,
and Harry Loren, brown and wild-looking, crumpled silently before Kirk's
feet.
Kirk examined the man, then he reached down and picked up the knife from
the thicket. It was crudely hammered out from some kind of alloy, but
sharp nevertheless, and it could have been deadly in a hand like Harry
Loren's.
Kirk looked again at the yellow-haired man on the ground. He was wearing
some kind of ragged cloth about his waist and nothing else. Across his
back, Kirk could see, was a curving scar, an inch wide and ten or twelve
inches long. It was white and very noticeable against the brown of the
man's skin.
Kirk bent down, looking at the scar carefully. It could have been made
during a crash of a rocket, but there were, he noticed, fine whiter
ridges running along the length of the scar as though they had been
made by fine comb-like teeth. A talon, perhaps. Some kind of strange
claw. Kirk straightened quickly.
It went through his head that Harry Loren might not be the only animal
life on this planet. He tightened his hand on his pistol, stepping
backward, his eyes darting.
But he could only pivot slowly, trying to see, to discover, and he was
much too slow when he finally saw it. It was only a flash of yellow and
brown, making a hissing kind of sound. He felt the ripping along his
right arm. The pistol was going out of his hand. And a swirling
blackness 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-looking
thing. It was alive because its head, shaped like a cone that had been
attached to its neck, kept swaying gently back and forth. The dark blue
eyes, spaced back from the smallest end of the cone, were rather small
with no lids. The creature's neck was long and thin, a multitude of
shades of yellow and brown like the head, and the rest of the body
widened out like a funnel and this area was covered with yellow
feathers. It had what appeared to be arms and legs, long thin extensions
of dark brown with large bony joints. At the end of each of these, Kirk
could 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 he
remembered then the ripping along his right arm. He looked at the arm
and at the way his jacket had been torn away along with the shirt
beneath it. He could see the comb-like marking of his skin. The cut was
not deep but it bled a little and stung. He tried to move his arm and
found that he could.
Kirk looked back to Loren. Loren stroked his hand along the thin neck of
the 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 years
afterward of loneliness, all the time for the quiet but sure warping of
the brain.
He raised a hand quickly, watching Loren's eyes. Loren did not change
expressions or move the pistol, but Kirk felt a comb-like claw touching
his hand, freezing it to motionless with its razor tips. Kirk looked at
the creature. The dark blue eyes were steady. Kirk lowered his hand
slowly and the claw was drawn away. The creature's head resumed it's
gentle 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, the
high-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 were
here."