SHANNACH—THE LAST
By LEIGH BRACKETT
Even in this grip of alien horror a man could not
throw away his lifetime goal ... not stand idly by as
endless rows of alabaster shapes, seated in their
chairs of stone, thought-ruled this gargoyle planet
from the dead blackness of deep Mercurian caverns.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It was dark in the caves under Mercury. It was hot, and there was no sound in them but the slow plodding of Trevor's heavy boots.
Trevor had been wandering for a long time, lost in this labyrinth where no human being had ever gone before. And Trevor was an angry man. Through no fault or will of his own he was about to die, and he was not ready to die. Moreover, it seemed a wicked thing to come to his final moment here in the stifling dark, buried under alien mountains high as Everest.
He wished now that he had stayed in the valley. Hunger and thirst would have done for him just the same, but at least he would have died in the open like a man, and not like a rat trapped in a drain.