MONSTER OF THE ASTEROID
By RAY CUMMINGS
They might gamble, but win or lose the take
was death for these two new slaves of the
Master of that pitted Devil's Isle of outer space.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1941.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The amazing thing began that summer evening of 1965 while I wassitting with Dora Franklin on the third ramp at the crossroads,listening to the outdoor public-music. We were on the fringe of thecrowd in a secluded little place where there was a small bench underthe overhanging branches of a tree. It was a romantic scene withthe audience seated in crescent rows under the strings of coloredtubelights. My arm went around Dora, with her head against my shoulderas we listened to the soft exotic music.
Around us, countless other couples were also listening in silence.
A pair of young lovers. I realize now that was doubtless what firstattracted the furtive man to us. How long he and his weird littlecompanion had been watching us I have no idea. I was aware of the twodark shapes in the shadow under a nearby tree—a tall blob and ashort one. Then the tall one came forward; the short one lurked in thedeep shadows a few feet away.
"The music is very pretty?" a guttural voice said. It was a man in along, dull-black cloak. His black peaked hat had a fringe almost inwoman fashion which dangled past his ears and shrouded his face sothat I could hardly see it. With his mumbled greeting he sidled up anddropped to the bench beside me, peering past me at Dora as though hewere infinitely more interested in her rather than me which was not initself a surprising fact.
"Yes," I agreed. Dora and I sat up and shifted reluctantly to give himroom. The little figure ten feet away, stood impassive. I recall thatI stared with a sudden startled astonishment; and then with a vagueshudder stabbing into me. The silent shape was no more than five feettall, so that with a quick glance here in the dimness one might havethought it a half grown boy. A man's long black overcoat fell from thetop of its head almost to the ground, as though a boy had the overcoathung on his head, with all of him shrouded inside it. But the top ofthe overcoat was limp, sagging. I had the sudden crazy thought thatthe thing was headless—an overcoat hanging on wide square shoulderswithout any head above them!
I shuddered involuntarily.
"You and the young lady like music?" the man beside me was saying. "Itis romantic. You are engaged maybe? Or honeymooning?" His voice wasalmost too solicitous.
Between the shrouding fringe of his hat the colored tubelight sheengleamed on his partly shrouded face. It was pallid, hawk-nosed,with burning dark eyes that still were staring with an almost rudeintentness at Dora.
"No," I said. I moved with an impulse to stand up and take Dora toanother bench, but the man's hand reached out and touched my arm.
"Just a minute," he said in his limping guttural voice. "My name isBragg. What is yours?"
"Ralston," I said stiffly. "Thomas Ralston."
I could see that Dora now was staring at that little lurking figure.She, too, sensed that there was something gruesome about it.
The man beside me was speaking more swiftly now in a low furtive flowof mumbled words. "I can interest young lovers like you. I have aplace, just for honey-mooners. A little colony of lovers. A place tolive, without cost, and no work. You would like it