AS IT WAS
By PAUL L. PAYNE
In a cruel Cosmos one lived only to be killer or
killed. The One proved that. It killed
a hundred times a day. Thisbe II was its blood-red
preserve ... and now, throwing the challenge in Its
myriad faces was Pritchard, the brightest name in big-game
hunting throughout the length and breadth of Galaxy A.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Dawn on Thisbe II was much like dawn on Terra, except for the color.The giant star Piramus lifted its magenta disk above the littleplanet's fore-shortened horizon and, in that brief moment, sent orangecorona flares shimmering out from its limb. An odd ionization effectcaused faint ripples of light to flicker in the purple sky above.
As the sun ascended, the magenta brightened into a crimson dazzle witha lavender halo. The flanks of distant mountains flamed curiously, asif their sides were smooth and polished mirrors.
Yet nothing gleamed with such intensity as the good ship Apollo,towering a hundred and ten feet on her fins. Her surface—chrome-platednickel-steel coated with a thick porcelain glaze—was expresslydesigned to bounce back every slightest beam of light.
So she stood now like a flaming sword, in the center of a wide blackcircle, the area of yesterday's landing burn, and lay across it awide fan of reflected sunlight. Presently, a thing like an enormousgrasshopper-leg unfolded from her side. In its grasp was something thatlooked like a tray full of erect ants. The tray touched ground softly,the ants walked off and became men, and the long derrick folded backinto the Apollo, taking the tray with it.
The men left on the ground stood looking about them eagerly. After someof the barren, hostile worlds they had visited this one seemed littleshort of Paradise. From the eminence on which the ship stood theycould look in every direction at rolling hills, among which clumps offeathery foliage rose profusely, and occasional startling upthrusts ofrock, like clubs brandished from underground, leaning in every possibleangle and having frequently such straight planes of cleavage that theyalmost seemed artificial. Olive-hued hills and dramatic fists of rockalike marched off to a disturbingly close-appearing horizon, wherebegan a sky that was not blue but lavender.
They stamped the ground. It was one thing to have watched this wonderswell on the visiscreens as the ship tore around on its landing orbit,and to have craned and peered through the heavy leaded glass of theviewports after the landing in yesterday's sunset. Neither of thesequite matched the delight of seeing it all with unaided and unimpededvision. They smelled the air, so rich and invigorating after the ship'smustiness.
They were all young but one. And this one faced them now, a tall,saturnine man, but with an amusement lurking in his dark, deep-seteyes. "Attention, cadet hunters," he said briskly, "let's have anotherequipment check."
They rolled their eyes at him and quirked their mouths in simulatedresignation. Yet the readiness with which they formed a semi-circleabout him showed their pride in obeying his orders. They knew they werelucky to be under Pritchard, the brightest name in planetary big-gamehunting throughout the length and breadth of Galaxy A.
For each of them had fought hard for his place in this latestexpedition to be led by Pritchard. The ex-pilot-turned-sportsmanregularly accepted certain hardy young neophytes of the chase asassistants on his expeditions; some aspired to follow in his footstepsand