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Ebook has 153 lines and 8755 words, and 4 pages

MONSTER

by WILLIAM MORRISON

There was a faint scratching at the door, so faint that Alice Kidd, who had been listening fearfully for precisely that sound, was at first not certain that she heard it. But, as she came close to the doorway, it was no longer possible to doubt, and a chill went through her at the thought of the creature panting eagerly on the other side. Now she could hear it whine, and, despite her knowledge that the gesture was an idle one, she could not help once more feeling the bolt behind the door. Then she made sure that the shutters too were securely barred, although these were usually in less danger; most of the animals could not apply pressure very far above the ground.

Small was staring at her, not particularly frightened, but very much interested. Her face, she thought, must be pale through the radiation tan. Ordinarily, there was nothing timid or fragile about her, or she would never have accompanied her husband to Mars; but all the same, she felt weak and helpless before the danger that threatened. And she shuddered as her five-year-old son asked, "Can it get in, Mommy?"

"I hope not, darling. Come, let's go into the other room and bolt the connecting door. And then I'll call up Daddy."

"Does it want to eat us, Mommy?"

Alice shuddered again. "Don't talk about it," she said, and carried him quickly into the next room. When the door was bolted, she pressed the contact button, asked for Mr. Kidd, and almost at once was speaking to Anthony.

He listened quietly, his dark face in the visor as grave as if he were concerned with some problem of engineering, and then said in a tone of reassurance, "Don't worry, it can't get in. Not under a couple of hours, anyway. And even if it does, you have that gun."

"That explosive thing?"

"It'll do, if you keep your nerve. But I don't think you'll have to put it to the test. I'm coming home now, anyway, and I'll take care of our friend. Have any idea what it is?"

"I haven't seen it. It just whines a little, and keeps scratching, very quietly."

"Probably a badgerine. Hope it doesn't try to tunnel under the floor. All right, sugar, keep your shirt on, and the Mars Marines will be there to the rescue."

"Take care of yourself."

"And how. Think I want you to be left with all that insurance money and fall victim to some fortune-hunter who sees nothing in you but your beautiful bank account?"

He hung up, and Alice waited, trembling. In the room where she was, she could no longer hear the straining animal, but she knew that it hadn't gone away. She tried to get interested in some of Small's childish treasures. The blocks he had long outgrown, and they kept the things only because there was no one to give them to, and it seemed silly to throw anything away here. Besides, Alice had the idea that her son might have a brother or a sister some day soon, if they ever decided it was possible to raise a baby here, and toys were difficult to import. As for Small's magic hypno-ray ring, his imitation teleport bracelet, and his genuine imitation home teleset and similar objects, all obtained either by sending away one quarter credit in stamps plus a cereal box-top or by selling a special perfumed soap to his neighbors--which in this case meant his parents--she had always found it difficult to arouse any interest in them. She had, in fact, been slightly annoyed at Anthony's indulgence of his son's desire to obtain them. And it was impossible to simulate interest now, with that animal at the door.

And then, suddenly, the animal wasn't there any longer. She didn't hear any noise from Anthony's gun. It wasn't that kind. She felt simply the shock of contact as the missile went through the creature's body and shook the house. Then came a long, despairing chorus of yells, and after that, for a moment, silence. She withdrew the bolt of the connecting door, and then the buzzer sounded.

When Anthony came in, she fell into his arms. Small, however, wasn't having any emotional excitement. He said, "What was it, Daddy? Was it really a badgerine?"

"Not this time, son. Just an octerocap."

"As if the other wasn't bad enough," said Alice faintly. The octerocap was an eight-headed wolf, and was as likely to kill newcomers by the fright its appearance induced as much as by its numerous teeth. "Anthony, you must simply get me another gun like yours."

"You can take mine if you really feel unsafe."

"You know I wouldn't take it. You need yours to get home with. And there isn't so much danger as long as you're within calling range. But in case of emergency--"

He nodded. "Do you think I don't realize that? I've been cabling that idiot, Tapling, for another gun ever since we got here. Not a chance."

"But why? Does he think that the government sends engineers to Mars for the purpose of having them killed and eaten by animals?"

"Tapling's is not to reason why, it's but to do according to regulations and let others die. He says that Regulation L34XC3 of Code 3 forbids it."

"The stupid fool!"

"Is he the same way to them?"

"And how! Operations have been dragging along at half of capacity because he says we haven't filled out the necessary forms for those spare parts we need. And we can't fill them out, because the forms have to be countersigned by the vice-president in charge of Operation M54, and that gentleman is vacationing somewhere in space with a new bride, and can't be located. So you see, darling, you're cursing him in good company."

"We could not. That's against regulation something or other too. Might kill friendly animals."

"But there isn't a single animal that's friendly!"

"Tell that to regulations and their guardian, Mr. Tapling."

Small looked up and said, "Mommy, we ought to get a dog."

Anthony nodded. "Our brilliant son is correct. Just as correct as he was when he first suggested it two months ago."

"But, Anthony, you know how much food costs here. He'd eat us out of--"

"Dogs eat animals," announced Small. "Space Dragoneer says so in his television program."

"Small's right," agreed Anthony. "I'll bet an octerocap has eight different kinds of vitamins, one for each head. We ought to try eating one ourselves and save money."

"Ugh!"

"I want to eat an octerocap," said Small. "He wants to eat me, so I don't see why I shouldn't eat him."

"Never heard more perfect logic in my life," observed Anthony with pride. "That's my boy. However, let's put the lesson in logic aside for a moment, and repair the damage the thing caused. Get the plastic metal, Alice."

But Small was not to be so easily sidetracked. When the repairs to the door had been completed, he said, as if continuing a conversation that had been going on all the time, "Are we getting the dog soon, Daddy?"

"I think we are, Small. Then, for a change, I think your Mommy will feel safe in the house."

"I'll call him, 'Rover'," decided Small.

"'Rover' let it be. He'll be unique--the only dog on Mars with that name. In fact, the only dog on Mars."

"I'm unique too, Daddy. I'm the only boy on Mars called 'Small'."

"It's not your real name, you know."

"It is so," asserted Small. "'Anthony, Jr.' is just a nickname. When I start going to television school, I'm going to tell the teacher that my name is Small Kidd."

Alice had been thinking. She said, "Anthony, dear, instead of writing for a dog, why don't you try again to get one of those new guns? I'm sure that if you did fill out a form--"

Alice tried to pretend that she didn't, but in her heart she felt a pang of disappointment when Tapling wrote back that additional guns were forbidden not only by Regulation L34XC3 of Code 3, but by virtue of certain other regulations as well. He was pleased, however, to reply favorably to Mr. Kidd's other request, and enclosed forthwith a copy of a catalogue published by the Central Terrestrial Dog Breeding Station.

It was, nonetheless, fascinating reading, and Small was even more fascinated by the pictures it contained. Moreover, with a catalogue actually in the house, he seemed to regard her as definitely committed to get Rover. He wavered in his favorites for that title between Great Danes and Saint Bernards, and Alice, as she contemplated the size of the two breeds, could only think of the enormous quantities of food they would consume, and shudder in dismay.

She put up one final feeble struggle that same night, when Anthony came home, and Small showed him the wonders in the new book. "Look, Daddy, this one looks like a sheep!"

"It's a Bedlington Terrier."

"Can we eat it?"

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