Adventure stories; Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction
Stiffy landed beside him, hauled him to his feet.
"Dang right I came to get you," he panted. "I thought them hoodlums
would be up to some dirty tricks, so I stuck around and watched."
He jerked at Meek's arm.
"Come on, Oliver, we got to get along."
But Meek jerked his arm away.
"Look what he's doin!" he shouted. "Just look at him!"
The Prowler seemed to be bent on systematic destruction of the space
ship. His jaws were ripping at the steel plating.... Ripping at it and
tearing it away, peeling it off the frame as one might peel an orange.
"Hey," howled Stiffy. "You can't do that. Get out of there, you
danged...."
The Prowler turned to look at them, a heavy power cable in its mouth.
"You'll be electrocuted," yelped Stiffy. "Danged if it won't serve you
right."
But, far from being electrocuted, the Prowler seemed to be enjoying
himself. He sucked at the power cable and his eyes eyes glowed
blissfully.
Stiffy flourished his pistol.
"Get away," he yelled. "Get away or I'll blister your danged hide."
[Illustration: _The Prowler whirled from the shattered ship._]
Almost playfully the Prowler minced away from the ship, feet dancing.
"He did it!" said Meek.
"Did what?" Stiffy scowled bewilderedly.
"Got away from that ship, just like you told him to."
Stiffy snorted. "Don't ever kid yourself he did it because I told him
to. He couldn't even hear me, probably. Living out here like this,
he wouldn't have anything to hear with. Probably he's just trying to
decide which one of us he'll catch first. Better be ready to kick you
up some dust."
The Prowler trotted toward them, head bobbing up and down.
"Get going," Stiffy yelled at Meek and brought up his pistol. A blue
shaft of light whipped out, smacked the Prowler in the head, but the
Prowler didn't even falter in his stride. The energy charge seemed to
have no power at all. It didn't even spatter ... it looked as if the
blue pencil of raging death was boring straight into the spread of
forehead between the monstrous eyes.
"Run, you danged fool," Stiffy screeched at Meek. "I can't hold him
off."
But Meek didn't run ... instead he sprang straight into the Prowler's
path, arm upraised.
"Stop!" he yelled.
III
The Prowler skidded to a stop, his metal hooves leaving scratches on
the solid rock.
For a moment the three of them stood stock still, Stiffy's jaw hanging
in astonishment.
Meek reached out a hand and patted the Prowler's massive shoulder.
"Good boy," he said. "Good boy."
"Come away from there!" Stiffy yelled in sudden terror. "Just one good
gulp and that guy would have you."
"Ah, shucks," said Meek, "he won't hurt anybody. He's only hungry,
that's all."
"That," declared Stiffy, "is just what I'm afraid of."
"You don't understand," insisted Meek. "He isn't hungry for us. He's
starved for energy. Give him another shot from the gun."
Stiffy stared at the gun hanging in his hand.
"You're sure it wouldn't make him sore?" he asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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