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                          THE VICTORY OF KLON

                         By WILBUR S. PEACOCK

                "Behold, I bring my people light!" But
             it was a deadly triumph for Klon, wriggling,
                 slimy lord of eternally-veiled Venus.

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                       Planet Stories Fall 1941.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Klon fled from fern to fern like a drifting shadow, circling the new
clearing that had been torn in the steamy jungle by the gleaming
monster that had come from the eternal fog that clothed his world. He
halted now and then, slipped into the stagnant water that covered nine
tenths of the planet, and listened for the slightest sound that would
warn him of a hidden watcher spying on his movements.

Satisfied that he was alone in the jungle swamp, he edged closer to the
clearing whose edge was a charred and ragged circle. His lidless eye
gleamed phosphorescently in the darkness that never changed, bringing
into sharp detail the shadows that were two shades of blackness for
there were no colors on his earth.

He slipped over the burned ground, wincing at the bruises given him by
the unaccustomed hardness beneath his body. He hissed a bit in anger
that he should suffer so, then went rigid as the thing happened again.

An amazingly light shadow had suddenly come into being on the roundness
of the gleaming visitor from somewhere above.

Klon wanted that shadow, wanted that thing that was brighter than
anything he had ever seen--and his purpose was to gain it in any way
possible. For possession of that light shadow would make him greater
than anyone else on the planet. Mightier even than Valok.

Klon knew that his time was growing short; the nation would declare
their new leader within a very short while, and he knew that possession
of that light shadow was the one thing that would assure him of victory
over his rival for leadership.

His gills opened and closed automatically, involuntary muscles working
even when his lungs worked on the damp air. He winced a bit from the
lightness of the shadow, for never had his eye seen one that was so
without blackness.

And then Klon was at the roundness of the thing, the touch of its
coolness sending a thrill of dread through his heart. He moved slowly
until he was just below the circle of lightness, then climbed upwards
with his sucker-discs.

Slowly, carefully, instantly ready for flight to safety, he lifted his
head until his eye was pressed against the light shadow. He felt tiny
pains running through his eye, back into his head, and down into his
body, but he gave it no heed.

For he was seeing something that none other of his race had had the
courage to face. He saw things but dimly, and the hideousness of the
scene almost made him lose his hold.

For nightmarish creatures moved within the gleaming thing, moving on
stiff tentacles, gesturing with others, while above, on a thin neck,
fanged mouths opened and closed in sickening motions. And the shadows
of their skins were of shades of lightness and darkness that were
terrifying to Klon's senses that had never met the like before.

He gasped audibly, swung back from the circle of lightness, shaking
with horror at what he had seen.

       *       *       *       *       *

Inside the gleaming space ship, three men were seated on the
collapsible bunks. Kurt Overland, his muscular body unclad except for
shorts, was speaking in his even tone.

"Well," he said cheerfully, even his steady voice failing to conceal
the burning eagerness within him, "we're finally ready. I've just made
the last repair on the things broken by landing."

Frank Barker grinned at him from across the cell-like room, stretched
his six feet of blond-topped, lanky strength happily.

"Suits me," he said, "I'm tired of being cooped in this animated bullet
that's been home for so long."

"We had to wait," gray-haired Professor Kent said mildly, "After all,
if we are met by hostile beings, we want to be able to escape."

Kurt Overland grinned. "Maybe you're right, Professor," he said. "But
I'd hate to return to Earth and say that we'd been run off before we
had a chance to bring back proof of our expedition's success."

"That would be a calamity," Barker broke in. "Remember what a devil of
a time we had getting permission to make this flight through space.
The President told me, just before we took off, that because of the
many deaths in faulty rockets a law was being passed to forbid any more
flights. He said that it was only his influence that made it possible
for us to leave Earth on a trip to Venus, and that if we failed to make
good there would probably be no more flights for, possibly, hundreds of
years."

"So!" Professor Kent nodded his head. "Then I am glad that we did not
fail; for it is apparent that we are the vanguard of a new phase of our
civilization."

Kurt Overland stood, flexed his arms. "Well, come on, let's go," he
said. "It's time we took a look around."

The three of them slipped into their space suits, each of them
tight-breathed with eagerness to explore the second of the planets.
They were strangely silent as they dressed.

"Better slip the cover over that radi-light," Professor Kent tried to
keep his tone even. "There may be poisonous insects outside that would
be attracted by it. We will go outside without lights, then switch them
on when the port is closed."

Frank Barker moved toward the radi-light, slipped the cover over its
eternal brightness with a gloved hand. Then he joined the other two
at the port. For a long second the three of them stood shoulder to
shoulder.

"Professor Kent," Kurt Overland said softly, "please go first. It is
your right that you should be the first to step onto a world made
accessible only by your genius."

Professor Albert Kent's shoulders shook silently for a moment in great
emotion, then straightened with pride. He nodded, swung shut his visor
plate, dogged it securely.

Barker and Overland followed suit, clicked on their radio receivers.
They waited patiently for their leader, knowing the feelings that must
have been his at the moment.

And then, unsealing the port, clutching the American flag gently in
his left hand ready for its planting on Venus, Professor Kent stepped
through the port, the first human to land on the veiled planet. Behind
him, following with a clumsy speed, came Frank Barker and Kurt Overland.

"We three--" Professor Albert Kent began.

       *       *       *       *       *

Klon dropped from the side of the ship.

He paused for a moment over the lifeless bodies of the three intrepid
explorers, then moved away, disgusted by his closeness to the horrible
creatures he had slain so swiftly and casually.

His every sense was alert for the slightest movement on the long
gleaming thing beside him to retaliate in quick vengeance for the
slaying of the things that lived within its belly.

Klon crouched there for moments, then moved toward the ship. He climbed
into the port entrance, leaving a thick trail of slime in his wake. He
moved eagerly toward the small hole in the opposite wall, his heart
thudding with bursting eagerness.

He had seen Frank Barker slip the shield over the shadow that was so
unlike anything on his earth. And now he moved through the darkness of
the space ship, slipping surely through a darkness that was natural to
him and his fellow creatures.

He lifted the small box from its recess, turned and sped from the ship,
vague terror and superstition overcoming the courage that had taken
so long to build to a white heat. He rushed past the men who slept
the eternal sleep before the port of their ship, slipped into the
warm water at the edge of the clearing, began his long journey to the
meeting place at which a leader would be chosen.

He clasped the box close to him as he raced through the swampy jungle,
afraid that it might disappear before he could reach his destination.
He did not pause to examine his prize, knowing that the time was
growing short, feeling certain a longer wait would only make the globe
of lightness more thrilling.

       *       *       *       *       *

The people of Klon's nation were gathered in the Council Clearing,
silent as each of the candidates for leader extolled his own virtues
and explained his qualification for the position as their leader.

Hisses of approval and sounds of disapproval greeted each candidate as
he placed himself on the stone at the clearing's center.

And then Klon slipped into the clearing. He hissed greetings as he made
his way to the central stone. Still clutching the box tightly to his
body, he climbed to the top of the stone, faced his nation.

A respectful silence fell as his powerful body loomed high in the air
over the heads of his people.

Klon stood for a moment, silently considering the short speech he
intended to make. He caught the glance of Valok's eye, looked away.
His gaze travelled over the clearing, making out familiar features of
his people.

The crowd was not large, for Klon's nation was a small one. It was
large in the sense that no other group on the planet was as large. And
it was the only race with useful intelligence.

Klon looked at his people, and pride made his heart beat even faster.

"I am here to prove to you that I am the mightiest among you," he
hissed. "I have here the thing that will prove what I say." He lifted
the small box so that everyone could see.

A wave of interested hissing grew in sudden applause, then a respectful
silence fell again. Klon hesitated for a moment longer, then continued:

"I got this thing from the belly of the thing that came from the
clouds, killing three horrible creatures single-handedly. Thus I have
proved that I am clever, brave and strong."

"What is this thing you have brought us, Brave Klon?" Valok's sneering
hiss broke in upon Klon's words.

"A thing that is like nothing any of you have ever seen; it is a shadow
lighter than anything on this world," Klon said proudly, and placed the
small box on the rock beside himself.

He paused again, knowing the effect his wait would have on his
audience. And then he whisked the cover from the radi-light, slid from
the central stone.

The radi-light flared with a dazzling, gleaming whiteness on the
stone, bringing with it a light such as had never penetrated the
always-present clouds that veiled Venus. Klon stood proudly to one
side, drinking in the hissing applause and hisses of surprise and awe
that greeted his showing of the globe of light shadow. He knew then
that he had won the coveted leadership of his nation.

"This," he hissed over the uproar of his people, "is the--"

Klon gasped in sudden intolerable agony, fiery fingers of pain tearing
at every bit of his body, cutting off his speech almost at its very
inception. He crumpled slowly to the ground, dimly conscious that other
cries were echoing his own.

He died then, hearing the agonized hisses of his friends, his last
sight of life being that of the globe that burned with a white-hot
light on the top of the central stone.

And slowly, but with increasing speed, his people died too. They fell
like tiny trees before a huge storm, falling even as they tried to find
a reason for the death around them. Like a wave eddying out from the
central stone, death cut its merciless sweep.

And within seconds there was no life in the clearing. Within seconds
an entire nation, every intelligent being on Venus, was dead of the
unleashed light rays, the like of which had never penetrated the miles
of fog that lay between earth and the sun.

The radi-light gleamed brightly on the central stone, shedding radiance
over the last beings of intelligence ever to be on Venus--perhaps
forever!





End of Project Gutenberg's The Victory of Klon, by Wilbur S. Peacock