Sam's Pet
"I felt it watching you--calling you--and I pulled the cord that makes
the great cry," Xenora whispered, after a long, long time.
"Thank God you did! It saved us! We were lost!" And I told her of the
amazing storm of flames, of the Thing that had risen out of them, and
of the irresistible spell of terror, from which she had awakened us.
"Yes," she said. "It was the Lord of Flame. He watches the world from
Xath. He knows the acts of every man!"
I must have reeled a little with fatigue, for suddenly the girl looked
at me with quick sympathy brimming in her eyes. "But you--my white
prince of dreams--you are very tired. You must rest."
Abruptly I realized that I was tired, dead with fatigue, with an
unutterable weariness not only of body but of mind, for the horror had
exhausted my emotions. I heard Sam splashing water under the shower. I
followed him to the bathroom, and then went to my bunk in the stern,
for I had given Xenora my stateroom. I was leaden with weariness, but
peacefully secure in the protection of the heavy metal walls of the
Omnimobile.
I have very little idea how long I slept, for we had let our watches
run down. In the absence of the sun, we came to pay less and less
attention to the time, though we usually kept the chronometers going.
When I woke I felt greatly refreshed, with my terrorized despair almost
gone. But I would not forget the sense of evil and intelligent power
that I had got from the pillar of strange green fire that had been
thrust so deliberately and purposefully up through the mist of violet
flame, and into the rosy haze that hung over the hidden abyss in which
it lurked.
It had _seen_ us! I knew it. And I knew that, even if its incredible
power seemed withdrawn, it was still not far away.
I heard Sam speak, heard Xenora laugh. Evidently they were in the
little galley, for I heard the clatter of cooking utensils. I dressed
and went in. How beautiful the girl was! Her red lips were brilliant
against the light green tan of her skin. Her dark hair fell over her
shoulders in a rich cascade, and her violet eyes were sparkling with
life.
She came to me quickly, and took my hand. No words passed between us,
for our minds were too near together to need many words. It was enough
for me to see the sympathy and love in her eyes. And it seemed again,
when our hands met, that a subtle current flowed back and forth between
us, setting our minds alight, making our hearts beat faster, raising us
together into a higher ethereal plane and fusing our beings into one!
In a moment Sam, with a kind smile of understanding on his face, called
us to the table. The steak from the thing we had killed was a great
success, and the table was loaded with the good things with which the
larder of the machine was stocked. The girl ate heartily, as did Sam
and I, and we talked and laughed a good deal. Even if the small number
of our common experiences limited the topics of conversation, we had a
merry enough time of it, and somehow that happy meal gave us greater
courage to meet the strange menace that rose before us.
After we had eaten, and all had helped wash the dishes, all in the same
gay spirit, Sam got out the box in which he had put the little creature
he had named Alexander. I had quite forgotten all about the diminutive
winged plant. With mingled curiosity and repulsion I watched him
unfasten the box. I had not yet recovered from my instinctive horror at
sight of the flying plants. Xenora seemed to share my antipathy toward
them. But Sam has always seemed to care as much for wild life as for
men; and he seemed to consider the little creature as natural a pet
as a dog. However, of course, his real reason for keeping it was for
scientific observation.
The thing fluttered about in the box when he picked it up, and as
soon as the lid was raised, it flew out and lit on his hand. Already
it seemed bigger and stronger than it had been a day before. The pale
yellow of the little fish-like body was darkening. The wings seemed a
darker green, and stronger. The blood-color of the slender tentacles
along the sides of the body was growing deeper and deeper.
The weird little monster clung to his finger with three of its
tentacles, holding the thin, petal-like membranes about its head
extended, and moving its black, knobbed organs restlessly. At first the
color of the flower-like tissues was almost white, but when I made a
sudden motion, they quickly darkened to a deep violet, and the little
creature crouched down in Sam's hand as if it were alarmed.
Sam smiled down at it with real understanding in his face.
He uncovered on the table a dish containing a great chunk of the raw,
bloody meat of the thing we had killed. The queer, flower-like head
twisted about, and the black, stalked organs moved like eyes. Abruptly
the membrane changed color again, from the violet of its fright to a
deep red.
Sam held his hand over the meat and the slender tentacles disengaged
themselves and writhed down over the plate like tiny red snakes. They
began to suck the juices out of the meat, and, as the thing filled
itself, the strange flower slowly faded in color, until it was a pale
pink.
Observing my instinctive horror of the thing, Sam said: "That's the way
it was meant to eat, Mel. Nothing unnatural about it. Our table manners
might not seem very elegant to an angel!"
"I guess you're right. But that thing just gets on my nerves."
When he went to put the little creature back in the box, it clung to
his finger as if reluctant to go, and strange bright patterns of color
flashed over the thin membrane. It seems fantastic enough, but even
then I was sure that the little thing possessed intelligence, and that
it was beginning to feel affection for Sam.
The next time he took it out it seemed larger and stronger--and
hungrier! We stayed there for what must have been ten days, though
we kept no accurate account of time. It grew rather astonishingly,
and always its odd appearance of intelligence was greater. It seemed
to feel a real affection for Sam. He whistled ancient tunes to it
sometimes, and it seemed to listen in great delight. And for long hours
he would sit with the thing in his lap and talk to it. He declared
that it was getting so that it could understand. Bright colors crawled
on the membranous fringe, and it seemed to listen to him with great
intentness.