The Ninth Golden Age of Science Fiction MEGAPACK ®: Dave Dryfoos by Dave Dryfoos

The Ninth Golden Age of Science Fiction MEGAPACK ®: Dave Dryfoos by Dave Dryfoos

Author:Dave Dryfoos [Dryfoos, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: comics, science fiction, space opera, pulp, sci-fi
ISBN: 9781479404414
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2014-11-09T16:00:00+00:00


And what had they found, that made them trot back so tiredly? Birds’ nests! The supposed cliff-dwellings were the nests of these huge and fearsome bird-things—the fields, unexplained oases in the bone-dry desert.

Of course, the birds could have planted those crops…but no one knew; no one knew anything that was applicable to this world. The Expedition was completely frustrated in its efforts to contact native life-forms. Yes—and as always, frustration had given rise to the need for a scapegoat.

Impulsively, Haines opened his transmitter, and said, “Baaaah!” When he’d snapped the switches shut again, he felt much better.

The men re-roofing Garston’s shack gave Haines some ugly black glares when he returned with his armload of papers. Their resentment added much to his burden of guilt: the time they’d spent on this unexpected job had come out of a badly-needed rest-period.

Much seemed to have been added to Garston’s burden of anger, too—he was nearly beyond speech. Still, he appeared anxious to be fair. “All right,” he grunted. “I suppose you want a chance to explain.”

Explain why he’d slept on guard? Say he’d been tired, with the whole crew obviously exhausted? Hardly!

Dredging his mind for an evasion, Haines dragged up the subject of Art, that he’d been trying for so long to broach. “Sir,” he said slowly, trying to keep his thoughts ahead of his words, “I think the birds took your roof off because they feel the shack is ugly.”

“Oh, you do! You think your refined esthetic sense that sets you apart from us Philistines is shared by the birds, do you?”

He was set apart, Haines realized. The muttered jeers now growling through his earphones seemed anonymous because the jeerers lacked individuality for him. He was Eightball—they were They. Only Garston counted with him, and that largely because Garston was Boss—the first boss he’d ever had.



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