Heaven Makers by Herbert Frank

Author:Herbert, Frank
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, science fiction, alien, sci fi, disaster, dune, frank herbert
Publisher: WordFire Press

Chapter 14

I must not grow to like this life, Kelexel told himself. I have a new pet, yes, but I also have a duty. A moment will come when I must leave, taking my pet, abandoning all the other pleasures of this place.

He sat in Ruth’s private quarters, a bowl of native liquor on a low table between them. Ruth appeared oddly pensive, quiet. The manipulator had required quite heavy pressure to bring her into a responsive mood. This bothered Kelexel. She had been coming along so nicely, taking the training with an ease which delighted him. Now—relapse . . . and just after he had given her such a pleasant toy, the pantovive.

There were fresh flowers on the table beside the liquor. Roses, they were called. Red roses. The liquor had been sent along by Ynvic. Its aroma, a touch on the palate, surprised and delighted Kelexel. Subtle esthers danced on his tongue. The heady central substance required constant readjustment of his metabolism. He wondered how Ruth adapted to the stuff. She was taking an inordinate amount of it.

In spite of the distracting effort at keeping his metabolism in balance, Kelexel found the total experience pleasant. The senses came alert: boredom retreated.

Ynvic had said the liquor was a wine from a sunny valley “. . .up there east of us.” It was a native product, lovely stuff.

Kelexel looked up at the silvery gray curve of ceiling, noted the gravity anomaly lines like golden chords above the manipulator. The room was taking on a pleasant air of familiarity with its new touches denoting occupancy by his delightful pet.

“Have you noticed how many of the ship people wear native clothing?” Kelexel asked.

“How could I?” Ruth asked. (How fuzzy her voice sounded.) “When do I ever get out of here?”

“Yes, of course,” Kelexel agreed. “I was thinking I might try some of your clothing myself. Ynvic tells me that the garments of some of your larger children often fit the Chem with very slight alteration. Ynvic calls that a fringe benefit.”

Ruth refilled her glass from the wine bowl, drank deeply.

The little pig of a gnome! she thought The dirty little troll!

Kelexel had been drinking from a flagon. He dipped it into the bowl, raised it dripping amber. “Good drink, delightful foods, comfortable clothing—all this and great enjoyment, amusement. Who could grow bored here?”

“Yes, indeed,” Ruth muttered. “Who c’d grow bored?” Again, she drank deeply of the wine.

Kelexel took another sip from his flagon, adjusted his metabolism. Ruth’s voice sounded so strange. He noted the manipulator’s setting, wondered if he should apply a bit more pressure. Could it be the liquor? he asked himself.

“Did you enjoy yourself with the pantovive?” he asked.

The dirty, evil little troll! she thought “‘S great fun,” she sneered. “Why’ntch go play with it y’rself f’r awhile?”

“Lords of Preservation!” Kelexel muttered. He had just realized that the liquor was inhibiting Ruth’s higher centers. Her head rolled crazily on her neck. She spilled part of her drink.

Kelexel reached over, took the glass from her, placed it gently on the table.

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