THE LORELEI DEATH
by NELSON S. BOND
Far out in limitless Space she plied
her deadly trade ... a Lorelei of the
void, beckoning spacemen to death and
destruction with her beautiful siren lure.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1941.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Chip Warren stood before an oblong of glass set into one wall ofthe spaceship Chickadee II, stared at what he saw reflectedtherefrom—and frowned. He didn't like it. Not a bit! It was too—too—
He turned away angrily, ripped the offending article from about hisneck, and chose another necktie from the rack. This one was brighter,gaudier, much more in keeping with the gaiety of his mood. He emitted agrunt of satisfaction, spun from the mirror to face his two companionstriumphantly.
"There! How do you like that?"
Syd Palmer, short and chubby, tow-headed and liquid-blue of eye, alwayslanguid save when engaged in the solution of some engineering problemconcerned with the space vessel he mothered like a brooding hen, moanedinsultingly and forced a shudder.
"Sunspots! Novae! Flying comets! And he wears 'em around his neck!"
"You," Chip told him serenely, "have no appreciation of beauty. What doyou think of it, Padre?"
"Salvation" Smith, a tall, gangling scarecrow garbed in rusty black,a lean-jawed, hawkeyed man with tumbled locks of silver framing hisweathered cheeks like a halo, concealed his grin poorly. "Well,my boy," he admitted, "there is some Biblical precedent foryour—ahem!—clamorous raiment. 'So Joseph made for himself a coatwhich was of many colors—'"
"Both of you," declared Chip, "give me a pain in the pants!Stick-in-the-muds! Here we are in port for the first time in months,cargo-bins loaded to the gunwales with enough ekalastron to make usrich for life—and you sit here like a pair of stuffed owls!
"Well, not me! I'm going to take a night off, throw myself a party thelikes of which was never seen around these parts. Put a candle in thewindow, chilluns, 'cause li'l' Chip won't be home till the wee, sma'hours!"
Syd chuckled.
"O.Q., big shot. But don't get too cozy with any of those joy-jointentertainers. Remember what happened to poor old Dougal MacNeer!"
Salvation said soberly, "Syd's just fooling, my boy. But I would becareful if I were you. We're in the Belt, you know. The forces of lawand order do not always govern these wild outposts of civilization aswell as might be hoped. The planetoids are dens of iniquity, violentand unheeding the words of Him who rules all—"
The old man's lips etched a straight line, reminding Chip thatSalvation Smith was not one of those milk-and-water missionaries whoespoused the principle of "turning the other cheek" to evildoers.Salvation was not the ordained emissary of any church. A devoutlyreligious man with the heart of an adventurer, he had taken uponhimself the mission of carrying to outland tribes the story of the Godhe worshipped.
That his God was the fierce Yahveh of the Old Testament, a God ofanger and retribution, was made evident by the methods Salvationsometimes employed in winning his converts. For not only was Salvationacknowledged the most pious man in space; he was also conceded to bethe best hand with a gun!
Now Chip gave quiet answer. "I know, Padre: I'll be careful. Well,Syd—sure you won't change your mind and come along?"
"No can do, chum. The spacep