The BEAST of SPACE
A tale of the prospectors of the starways—of dangers—
by F. E. HARDART
He staggered back from the lapping pool—the gas—the weight of the girl's body—the dog—[83]Here the dark cave, alongwhich Nat Starrett had beencreeping, broadened into whathis powerful searchlight revealed to bea low, wide, smoothly circular room.At his feet lapped black, thick-lookingwaves of an underground lake, a poolof viscous substance that gave off apenetrating, poignant odor of acid,sweetish and intoxicating, unlike anyacid he knew. The smell rolled up ina sickening, sultry cloud that penetratedhis helmet, made him coughand choke. Near its center projectedfrom the sticky stuff what appearedto be the nose of a spaceship.
He looked down near his feet at theedge of the pool where thick, slowly-movingtongues of the liquid appearedto reach up toward him, as if intenton pulling him into its depths. As eachhungry wave fell back, it left a slimy,snake-like trail behind.
Now came a wave of strange music,music such as he had never heard before.Faintly it had begun some timeback, so faintly he was barely awareof it. Now it swelled into a smooth,impelling wail lulling him into drowsiness.He did not wonder why he couldhear through the soundproof spacehelmet he wore; he ceased to wonderabout anything. There was only thestrange sweetness of acid and thethrobbing music.
Abruptly the spell was broken bysomething shrilling in his brain, sendinglittle chills racing up and downhis spine. Digger! A small, oddlycanine-like creature with telepathicpowers, a space-dweller which menfound when first they came to theasteroids. The relationship betweenspacehounds and men was much thesame as between man and dog in theold, earthbound days. Appropriatename for the beast, Digger. Withthose large, incredibly hard claws, designedfor rooting in the metal make-upof the asteroids for vital elements,the spacehound could easily haveshredded the man's spacesuit andhelmet, could, at any time, tear hugechunks out of men's fine ships.
The half-conscious man jerked histhin form erect. His mouth, which hadgaped loosely, closed with a snap intofirm lines.
"She isn't in this hell hole, Digger.You wouldn't expect her to be wherewe could find her easily."
Scooping the small beast up underhis good arm, he quickly climbed thesteep, slimy slope of the cave. Theother arm in his suit hung empty.That empty arm in the spacesuit toldthe story of an earthman becomevoluntary exile, choosing the desolationof space to the companionship ofother humans who would deluge himwith unwonted sympathy. The spacehoundwas friendly in its own fashion;fortunately, such complex things assympathy were apparently outside itsabilities. The two could interchangeimpressions of danger, comfort, pleasure,discomfort, fear, and appreciationof each other's company, but littlemore. Whether or not the creaturecould understand his thoughts, hecould not tell.
As he went on, he reviewed, mentally,the events leading up to his landinghere. The sudden appearance onhis teleview screen of the face andslim shoulders of a girl. Her attractivenessplainly distinguishablethrough her helmet; for a moment heforgot that he disl