THE BEAST-JEWEL OF MARS
By LEIGH BRACKETT
Burk Winters was a panting, shambling ape,
fleeting through dark and echoing pits of
horror. Behind him hissed the lashes of
the jeering mob, savagely exultant at
having debauched still another proud
Terran into something that crawled.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Burk Winters remained in the passenger section while the Starflight made her landing at Kahora Port. He did not think that he could bear to see another man, not even one he liked as much as he did Johnny Niles, handle the controls of the ship that had been his for so long.
He did not wish even to say good bye to Johnny, but there was no avoiding it. The young officer was waiting for him as he came down the ramp, and the deep concern he felt was not hidden in the least by his casually hearty grin.
Johnny held out his hand. "So long, Burk. You've earned this leave. Have fun with it."
Burk Winters looked out over the vast tarmac that spread for miles across the ochre desert. An orderly, roaring confusion of trucks and flat-cars and men and ships—ore ships, freighters, tramps, sleek liners like the Starflight, bearing the colours of three planets and a dozen colonies, but still arrogantly and predominantly Terran.
Johnny followed his gaze and said softly, "It always gives you a thrill, doesn't it?"