STAR OF PANADUR
BY ALBERT de PINA AND HENRY HASSE
On the barren wastes of Europa, two marooned
men fought, battling over an animal whose life
one had saved. There was no fear in the animal's
eyes—only the gleam of a weird unearthly knowledge
that foretold the way the fight would end.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories March 1943.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Hugh! Hugh! There's life here ... look ... look at this! Found it in acavern!" The shrill voice was exultant and gleeful.
Hugh Betancourt quickly rose from the fire he tended, and turnedstartled eyes on the furry bundle Jim Brannigan grasped firmly by thescruff of its neck. At first, nothing was visible but the liquid sheenof the thing's silvery fur; but as Jim roughly thrust it out, Hughgave an involuntary gasp of surprise. The creature's small, triangularface was nothing less than beautiful! Its eyes were soft and large andluminous, like beryls, set wide apart. Above its broad forehead a shortmane of silver fur, beginning in a widow's peak, fell back cloud-softand shimmering. It was about three feet tall, slim, furred to thethroat-line; a strange biped with slender arms and six-fingered hands.
"Damn it, Jim, go easy! You've all but strangled it! Here give it tome." Hugh extended his arms.
"Don't let it get away from you, it's faster than a jack-rabbit," Jimcautioned, extending the ham-sized hand in which he held the creature."Luckily, I surprised it in a sort of cave-like gully, where itcouldn't escape. It means food, Hugh! Lots of food if we can find moreof these animals!"
For a moment, the incipient madness of many days on this hellishsatellite engulfed Hugh in a wave of nausea. He remembered thegravity-screen tearing from its pivots, and the space-ship caught inthe tremendous pull of Jupiter; the last desperate try at the controls,and then the tiny dark bulk of Europa curving up to met them headlong.There had been cheerless days of biting cold when the tiny satellitefaced the distant pallid sun. There had been nights that were like acanto out of Dante, as they were bathed in Jupiter's red cold-glow.More recently, and for more reason, Hugh remembered the dwindling foodsupply which had now quite vanished.
"Yes, food," Hugh echoed Jim's words in a hoarse whisper. He graspedthe soft warm body in his hands with gentle firmness. The creaturedid not try to escape, it lay limp and inert with its eyes closed."But—but food doesn't quite solve our problem. Unless we can find someoxide crystal to alloy in the portable smelter, we're sunk. Jim, thatjagged hole in the prow isn't going to repair itself!"
Jim's ordinarily red face grew redder with anger, until there was nodistinguishing between the color of his hair and that of his face."All right," he snarled, "so we need the oxide! For days we've beensearching all over this cold hell for some, and where are we? I stillmaintain our immediate problem is food!"
"Yes, yes, food," Hugh murmured. Why, he wondered vaguely, was he soreluctant to talk about it while he held this limp warm creature inhis arms? He looked down at it again, and was startled to find himselfstaring into its extraordinary eyes. Limpid, brilliant, full of asemi-human intelligence now, they were scarcely a foot from Hugh's owneyes—and for a single instant Hugh had the crazy idea that they werefilled with a strange fixity of purpose, almost as if it were trying toconvey something to him ther