In the Green Star's Glow

“Why?” Zorak asked peevishly. “What happens when night falls?”

“The flower petals close,” advised the insect-creature.

“I fail to see how that will benefit us,” said the bowman.

“As the petals begin to close, they will bring Xikchaka and Zorak within reach of each other,” said the kraan in its grating, clicking equivalent of human speech. “And then Xikchaka and Zorak may be able to loosen or free each other.”

Studying the manner of the petals, the Tharkoonian perceived what had already become obvious to the coldly logical insect. They were stuck fast to opposite petals, and, always taking into consideration that the petals when fitted together, would match tip to tip, they should then be so close to each other that Zorak with his fingers could pluck and tear loose the tendrils which clung about the many limbs of Xikchaka, while the insect-creature, for his part, could do the same for Zorak, using his pincers, claw-tipped mandibles, and other members in lieu of hands.

There was, then, nothing to be done before nightfall. The long, weary day dragged with interminable slowness toward its end. For the beginning period of his imprisonment, Zorak had nourished within his heart the hope that Niamh the Fair would fly the sky-craft down to effect his rescue. Since this had not as yet occurred, and as more than a few hours had passed since he had fallen into the clutches of the predatory flower, obviously something had interfered with her freedom of action. Or, quite simply, she did not possess the knowledge or skills required to pilot the flying vessel.

It did not, as it happened, even occur to Zorak that the Princess of Phaolon thought him fallen into the abyss and long since dead. From the position in which he was helplessly bound, he could not clearly see the great branch far above them, for if he had been able to observe its position, he would have realized that from the edge of the branch above him the girl simply could not see the great flower where it grew.

Night fell, black winged, smothering the light. As the huge red ant had predicted, the petals of the monstrous cannibal flower began to close together. They moved jerkily and in random spasms, but it was obvious to the stalwart bowman that soon he and the kraan would be face to face.

They had only a short time to set each other free, or both would smother in the thick, clinging maw of the man-eating monster.

Then the blossom closed, and suddenly Zorak found himself gasping for breath.

At the same moment he felt the cold touch of the kraan’s jaws grasping for his throat.

Had the skies of the Green Star World been eyed with stars instead of veiled behind perpetual mists, they might, after a time, have observed an unusual and unprecedented sight.

From a long rent torn in the underside of a monstrous flower there issued slowly and weakly into the open air the form of a man. From head to foot his body was smeared with a sticky fluid. His limbs and torso were scored with abrasions and bruises, but he lived and seemed uninjured.

Reaching back into the heart of the torn blossom, he helped another creature forth into the air. It was a gigantic scarlet insect, like a huge red ant grown to the size of a hippopotamus.

Despite its mighty proportions, this second creature to emerge from the throat of the vampire blossom moved feebly, its many jointed limbs twitching erratically, its chitin-clad form glistening with the slobber of the man-killing plant.

Man and insect helped each other farther up the surface of the mighty branch to which the flower, now wilting, fluids leaking from the long tear in its throat, clung with many rootlets.

For the first time in the long history of this strange and wondrous world of many marvels and mysteries, a child of the race of men had found an unlikely ally with one of the cold, logical, merciless kraan.

And for the first time since the evolution of their races, a member of the kraan hordes had an inkling of the meaning of a great and noble and very beautiful word; friendship.