"Mars is better, eh?" MacIan had a sudden inspiration. "Cool dry air,
and little dark women, and the wine-shops on the Jekkara Low-canal.
You'd like to be back there, wouldn't you?"
To himself, he thought in savage pleasure, "I'll pay you out, you
little scum. You've tortured me with what I've lost, until I'd have
killed you if it hadn't been against my plan. All right, see if you can
take it!"
The slow dusk was falling; Thekla's dark face was a blur but MacIan
knew he had got home. "The fountains in the palace gardens, Thekla;
the sun bursting up over red deserts; the singing girls and the _thil_
in Madame Kan's. Remember the _thil_, Thekla? Ice cold and greenish,
bubbling in blue glasses?"
He knew why Thekla snarled and sprang at him, and it wasn't Thekla he
threw down on the soft earth so much as a tall youngster with a fair
mustache, who had goaded with good intent. Funny, thought MacIan, that
well-intentioned goads hurt worse than the other kind.
A vast paw closed on his shoulder, hauling him back. Another, he saw,
yanked Thekla upright. And Bhak the Titan's hairy travesty of a face
peered down at them.
"Listen," he grunted, in his oddly articulated Esperanto. "I know
what's up. I got ears, and village houses got thin walls. I heard the
Nahali girl talking. I don't know which one of you has the treasure,
but I want it. If I don't get it...."
His fingers slid higher on MacIan's shoulder, gripped his throat. Six
fingers, like iron clamps. MacIan heard Thekla choking and cursing; he
managed to gasp:
"You're in the wrong place, Bhak. We're men. I though you only
strangled women."
The grip slackened a trifle. "Men too," said Bhak slowly. "That's why
I had to run away from Titan. That's why I've had to run away from
everywhere. Men or women--anyone who laughs at me."
MacIan looked at the blank-eyed, revolting face, and wondered that
anyone could laugh at it. Pity it, shut it harmlessly away, but not
laugh.
Bhak's fingers fell away abruptly. "They laugh at me," he repeated
miserably, "and run away. I know I'm ugly. But I want friends and a
wife, like anyone else. Especially a wife. But they laugh at me, the
women do, when I ask them. And...." He was shaking suddenly with rage
and his face was a beast's face, blind and brutal. "And I kill them. I
kill the damned little vixens that laugh at me!"
He stared stupidly at his great hands. "Then I have to run away. Always
running away, alone." The bright, empty eyes met MacIan's with deadly
purpose. "That's why I want the money. If I have money, they'll like
me. Women always like men who have money. If I kill one of you, I'll
have to run away again. But if I have someone to go with me. I won't
mind."
Thekla showed his pointed teeth. "Try strangling a Nahali girl, Bhak.
Then we'll be rid of you."
Bhak grunted. "I'm not a fool. I know what the Nahali do to you. But I
want that money the girl told about, and I'll get it. I'd get it now,
only Lehn will come."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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