Poul Anderson by Planet of No Return

Author:Planet of No Return
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-24T13:58:32+00:00

“If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,

Every nighte and alle,

Sit thee down and put them on;

And Christe receive thye saule.

“If hosen and shoon thou ne’er gavest name,

Every nighte and alle,

The whinnes sail pricke thee to the bare bane;

And Christe receive thye saule.”

(What have we ever given each other, of kindness and help and love, in all the long nights of man? What can we ever give each other?)

Gummus-lugil moved over and sat heavily down beside him. “One down,” he murmured. The weaving light etched the strong thrust of his face against darkness. “How many more?”

“It was the little things Hamilton was afraid of,” said Lorenzen. “Not earthquakes and monsters and big-brained octopi, but the snakes and germs and poison plants. And he was right.”

“A thing with cyanide in its fangs—what kind of metabolism is that? Can’t have blood like we do.” The engineer shivered. “It’s cold tonight.”

“It can be licked,” said Lorenzen. “If that’s all we have to fear, it isn’t much.”

“Oh, sure, sure. I’ve seen worse than this. I was just so goddammed—sudden. Why, you almost touched that thing yourself. I saw you.”

“Yes—” Lorenzen felt sweat at the thought.

It struck him then. Alasvu had not warned him.

He held himself quiet, admitting the realization piece by piece into his mind, not daring to let it burst in all at once. Alasvu the Rorvan had not pulled him back from the lizard.

He looked across the fire to the small group of the aliens. They were in shadow, only their eyes glowing out of darkness. What were they thinking? What had they planned for these strangers from beyond the stars?

He wanted to tell Avery … no, let it ride for now. It could have been an accident. Maybe the lizards were rare, maybe this group of Rorvan had never seen one before either. Alasvu himself had been within centimeters of the fangs. The aliens couldn’t be so stupid as to think they could murder every one of the humans and make it look like an accident!

But the Da Gama had never come home!

He forced down a shudder. He was tired, overwrought, his suspicions were childish and he knew Avery would label them as such. And if he told von Osten, the German would probably want to shoot all the Rorvan on the spot. Gummus-lugil and Thornton—well, not just yet, let him think and gather evidence before making a fool of himself.

He looked out into the western darkness. That was the way they were heading, into the mountains, into canyons and gorges and up thin slippery trails where anything could happen. And they couldn’t turn back, not now, though they had no dimmest idea of what might be waiting for them.

“From Whinny-Muir when thou mayst passe,

Every nighte and alle,

To Brigg o’ Dread thou comest at laste,

And Christe receive thye saule.”

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