one touch of terra
By HANNES BOK
Maybe they had been bad mannered—accepting things
of her—but who was to guess the Martian would interfere?
Hannes Bok, who has been part of the world of Science Fiction and Fantasy for so many years, tells the touching story of Trixie and her dandelions, in the little mining camp on Venus, and how one of them th'ar Martians tried to do her—and the citizens of Finchburg—wrong.... Of course Goreck was just giving Trixie the runaround. All he was really after was her dandelions ... as you would have been....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic Universe December 1956.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Listen, Elmer!" Horseface Smith told his gwip. "What's that racket ahead—yellin', shootin', or both?"
Elmer obediently stopped and cocked his duck-head in the direction of Finchburg, then nodded sagely, if somewhat ambiguously. He was a pack animal of the sort commonly used by psithium-prospectors on Venus, now that interplanetary travel was commonplace, and he was almost as intelligent as a human.
Despite his size—he was nearly as large as a terrestrial horse—he must have had a dash of flying-squirrel blood, since when in a hurry gwips were apt to bound off the ground, flattening their plump bodies in a flying-squirrel glide which took them thirty to fifty feet per jump.
But at present Elmer wasn't able to do any bounding. His saddle-bags were sagging with samples of ore, and he had all he could do just to walk.