Science fiction; Short stories; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction
PUBLICITY STUNT
_By Robert Moore Williams_
_Illustrated by Joe W. Tillotson_
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Other Worlds
March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The orders were to build up Venus, make it sound like the gateway
to Paradise for the average Earthman--fog-flies, flying snakes and
"tame" Venusians included.
"Just go right ahead and start chewing on me!" Molock briskly invited
the Venusian, Shad Brisbee. "When you get a square meal, I'll get a
lunch!"
Rita Morgan didn't turn a hair at the challenge but I thought Captain
Wilkerson, who was officially in charge of us, was going to faint.
"No, no, NO!" Wilkerson screamed. "Molock, you're getting us all into
trouble. You're--"
"Sheddap!" Molock said to Wilkerson. He turned again to the Venusian,
Shad Brisbee. "You heard what I said. If you want to try to start
carving on me with one of those frog stickers you've got stuck in your
belt, hop right to it. But remember, by Harry, while you're doing your
carving, I'm going to be doing a little light whittling myself."
Except for the needle pistol in his pocket, Molock was unarmed. Lifting
hands as big as hams, he looked Shad Brisbee square in all of the
Venusian's eyes that happened to be turned toward him at the moment.
Molock had the full attention of all six of those eyes. The expression
on Shad Brisbee's face indicated that if he had had six more eyes, he
would have been concentrating all of them on the antics of this mad
human.
Shad Brisbee was seven feet tall, he must have weighed close to 300
pounds. Molock's six feet, 185 pound frame was a pygmy beside the
Venusian. Shad Brisbee fingered the knives in his belt as if he was
considering accepting Molock's invitation, then suddenly spread his
hands. Protesting sound bellowed out of him.
"But you 'ave landed right in the middle of our dancing ground!"
"Then by Harry! dance somewhere else!" Molock shouted.
I thought at first that Shad Brisbee was going to explode. He puffed
himself up until he looked to be eight feet tall. Indignation turned
him green. Each of his six eyes turned yellow and he glared at Molock
out of all of them.
"Molock, his dancing ground is sacred!" Wilkerson croaked.
"And to me, staying alive is sacred," Molock answered. "Which is the
sacredest, my staying alive or his dancing ground?"
"But the way you're acting now, you're going to get us all killed!"
Wilkerson screamed.
"Am I?" Molock answered. "Watch this!" He turned again to Shad Brisbee.
"Listen, you six-eyed baboon. We landed in the middle of your dancing
ground by accident but we're going to stay right where we are as long
as we damn well please. Get it? _We're going to stay here as long as we
damn well please._ And neither you nor any other of your six-eyed tribe
is going to do anything about it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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