STAR OF PANADUR
BY ALBERT de PINA AND HENRY HASSE
On the barren wastes of Europa, two marooned
men fought, battling over an animal whose life
one had saved. There was no fear in the animal's
eyes—only the gleam of a weird unearthly knowledge
that foretold the way the fight would end.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories March 1943.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Hugh! Hugh! There's life here ... look ... look at this! Found it in a cavern!" The shrill voice was exultant and gleeful.
Hugh Betancourt quickly rose from the fire he tended, and turned startled eyes on the furry bundle Jim Brannigan grasped firmly by the scruff of its neck. At first, nothing was visible but the liquid sheen of the thing's silvery fur; but as Jim roughly thrust it out, Hugh gave an involuntary gasp of surprise. The creature's small, triangular face was nothing less than beautiful! Its eyes were soft and large and luminous, like beryls, set wide apart. Above its broad forehead a short mane of silver fur, beginning in a widow's peak, fell back cloud-soft and shimmering. It was about three feet tall, slim, furred to the throat-line; a strange biped with slender arms and six-fingered hands.
"Damn it, Jim, go easy! You've all but strangled it! Here give it to me." Hugh extended his arms.
"Don't let it get away from you, it's faster than a jack-rabbit," Jim cautioned, extending the ham-sized hand in which he held the creature. "Luckily, I surprised it in a sort of cave-like gully, where it couldn't escape. It means food, Hugh! Lots of food if we can find more of these animals!"