The Victory of Klon

Wilburn S. Peacock

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

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,...