It was one thing to heave an unwanted girl
out into the great black grave of space. But
tough old pirate Captain Brace balked at
making his own soul walk the plank with her!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1949.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They stood, silently, side by side, in the crude shelter that passedfor a bar on Titan. Its corroded metal walls rang hollowly to theboisterous, animal humor which flowed as freely as drink. Lewd sketchesadorned the walls, staring down at the two men, the lewdity of fiveraces to please the lechers of five planets. But all of this was loston Brace. He was begotten in sin and knew no other life.
The thin-faced man beside him shifted uneasily. "Buy you a drink,Brace?"
"CAPTAIN Brace!" the ape snapped. It was too true to be funny. Helooked like an ape. His face was ugly and concave, the nose flattened.His back and shoulders sloped and his arms hung slightly before hisbody.
"Captain Brace," the other said quickly.
Brace laid one of his paws on the bar, hairy, grotesque. He sniffedloudly and grunted, "Borl!"
The complacent bartender poured three fingers into a glass and Brace'slips quivered slightly over his protruding teeth in humorous pride. Noman he knew could drink the stuff straight, this caustic liquor oftenused to add a poisonous garnish to the drinks of the frail men on earth.
The thin-faced man murmured, "Whiskey," and the bartender poured thiswith equal nonchalance.
Brace stared at the glass in his hand, prolonging the moment, for heknew many curious eyes watched him. Blood brother to sulphuric acid,someone had called it; Borl, distilled from the roots of a poisonoustree, the touch of whose leaves burned flesh through to the bone.
It was a show worth seeing—and Brace knew it. He knew it hurt, searedhis throat, and made his chest ache, that once he had crushed a glassin his hand in pain afterward. It had hoarsened his voice and burnedhis lips and tongue so they were like the palm of a workman's hand. Butno other man could do it.
He raised the glass to his lips and poured the contents down. The menwho were watching drew in their breath but not all of the spectatorswere men. Some were aliens who expressed surprise or tension in otherways. Venusians' long-unused gill slits rustled. The armadillo-likeSaturnians made crackling sounds by shifting their bodies in a slightcircular motion. The Martians, almost man-like, made nasal squeaks withthe second set of vocal cords behind their palates. The downy-skinnedIonians, pale white in the gloom, made little clicking sounds withtheir fingers like miniature castanets. Then Brace laid the empty glasson the bar and life resumed in this sump where collected the residue offive races.
The thin-faced man tossed off his whiskey in one gulp, then coughed.Brace threw back his head and roared with laughter, long and loud. Theroom joined him, but the thin-faced man didn't mind. He laughed too. Itwas safer.
A pair of stained curtains suddenly separated on a little raisedplatform and all eyes turned toward it, including Brace's bloodshotones, still jumping from the effect of the drugging Borl. A girl cameout, scantily clad, and a spotlight from somewhere centered on her. TwoIonians played rhythmic melodies on a heavy stringed instrument and thegirl began to dance.
Men yelled the age-old cry, "Take it off!" And she, twirling, smiled,but her face turned pink under the cries and jests.
Followed by the thin-faced man, Brace