LORELEI OF THE RED MIST
By Leigh Brackett and Ray Bradbury
He died—and then awakened in a new body.
He found himself on a world of bizarre
loveliness, a powerful, rich man. He took
pleasure in his turn of good luck ... until
he discovered that his new body was hated
by all on this strange planet, that his
soul was owned by Rann, devil-goddess of
Falga, who was using him for her own gain.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The Company dicks were good. They were plenty good. Hugh Starke beganto think maybe this time he wasn't going to get away with it.
His small stringy body hunched over the control bank, nursing the lastounce of power out of the Kallman. The hot night sky of Venus fled pastthe ports in tattered veils of indigo. Starke wasn't sure where he wasany more. Venus was a frontier planet, and still mostly a big X, exceptto the Venusians—who weren't sending out any maps. He did know thathe was getting dangerously close to the Mountains of White Cloud. Thebackbone of the planet, towering far into the stratosphere, magnetictrap, with God knew what beyond. Maybe even God wasn't sure.
But it looked like over the mountains or out. Death under the guns ofthe Terro-Venus Mines, Incorporated, Special Police, or back to theLuna cell blocks for life as an habitual felon.
Starke decided he would go over.
Whatever happened, he'd pulled off the biggest lone-wolf caper inhistory. The T-V Mines payroll ship, for close to a million credits. Hecuddled the metal strongbox between his feet and grinned. It would be along time before anybody equaled that.
His mass indicators began to jitter. Vaguely, a dim purple shadow inthe sky ahead, the Mountains of White Cloud stood like a wall againsthim. Starke checked the positions of the pursuing ships. There was noway through them. He said flatly, "All right, damn you," and sent theKallman angling up into the thick blue sky.
He had no very clear memories after that. Crazy magnetic vagaries,always a hazard on Venus, made his instruments useless. He flew by theseat of his pants and he got over, and the T-V men didn't. He was free,with a million credits in his kick.
Far below in the virgin darkness he saw a sullen crimson smear on thenight, as though someone had rubbed it with a bloody thumb. The Kallmandipped toward it. The control bank flickered with blue flame, the jettimers blew, and then there was just the screaming of air against thefalling hull.
Hugh Starke sat still and waited....
He knew, before he opened his eyes, that he was dying. He didn't feelany pain, he didn't feel anything, but he knew just the same. Part ofhim was cut loose. He was still there, but not attached any more.
He raised his eyelids. There was a ceiling. It was a long way off. Itwas black stone veined with smoky reds and ambers. He had never seen itbefore.
His head was tilted toward the right. He let his gaze move down thatway. There were dim tapestries, more of the black stone, and three tallarchways giving onto a balcony. Beyond the balcony was a sky veiled andclouded with red mist. Under the mist, spreading away from a murky lineof cliffs, was an ocean. It wasn't water and it didn't have any waveson it, but there was nothing else to call it. It burned, deep downinside itself, breathing up the red fog. Little angry bursts of flamecoiled up under the flat surface, sending circles of sparks flaring outlike r