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"pal," no brassy blondes giving him the eye. Still, it wasbetter than the life he had actually lived, much better. It would do, itwould have to do.

  * * * * *

  From what he had seen of the natives, he liked them--and feared them.For all their mistaken faith in him, they seemed to be no fools. Howmany times before had men from some supposedly superior civilizationdropped in upon the people of a new world and made that first impressionof divinity, only to have the original attitude of worship by thenatives give way to disillusion and contempt? Who was that fellow theytold about in the history books he had read as a kid? Cortez, way backon Earth, when that planet itself had offered unexplored territory. Andlater on it had happened on one of the moons of Jupiter, and on severalplanets outside the System. The explorers had been gods, until they hadbeen found out. Then they had been savage murderers, plunderers, devils.

  It would be too bad if he were found out. He was one against them all,he would never be able to fight off so many enemies. More than that, hewas a stranger here, he needed friends. No, he mustn't be found out.

  "Better put on your helmet, dope," he told himself savagely. "They'll becoming back soon, and if they find you without it--" He put on hishelmet, still muttering to himself. It wouldn't make any difference ifhe were overheard. They didn't know Earth language and would take hiswords for oracular utterances. He could talk to himself all he wanted,and from the looks of things, there would be no one to understand him.He hoped he didn't grow crazy and eccentric, like those hermits who hadbeen lost alone in space for too many years.

  The helmet was the first nuisance. There would be others too. Hecouldn't even talk in what had become his natural manner, with a whinein every word, a whine that came from being treated with contempt bypolice and fellow-criminals alike. A god had to speak with slow gravity,with dignity. A god had to walk like a god. A god had endlessresponsibilities here, it seemed.

  He thought again of his mother. Ever since he could remember, it hadbeen, "Georgie, wipe your nose!" and, "Georgie, keep your fingers out ofthe cake!" and Georgie do this and _don't_ do that. A fine way to speakto a god. Even after he had grown up, his mother had continued to treathim like a baby. She had never got over examining his face and his earsand his fingernails to make sure that he had cleaned them properly. Hecouldn't so much as comb his hair to suit her; all through his abortiveattempt at college, and later at a job, she had done it for him.

  But she had been a lioness in his defense later on, when he had givenway to that first irresistible impulse to dip his fingers in the tilland get away with what he thought would be unnoticed petty cash. It hadbeen her fault that the thing had happened, of course. She could havegiven him a decent amount of spending money, instead of doling it out tohim from his own wages as if she were giving money for candy to aschoolboy. She could have treated him more like the man he was supposedto be.

  Still, he couldn't complain. She had stuck to him all the way through,whatever the charges against him. When that lug of a traveling salesmanhad accused her Georgie of picking his pockets, and that female refugeefrom a TV studio had charged poor harmless Georgie with slugging her, itwas his mother who had stood up in court and denounced them, andsolemnly told judge and jury what a sweet, kind, helplessly innocentlamb her Georgie was. It wasn't her fault if no one had quite believedher.

  Now he was on his own, without any possibility of help from her. And inwhat the ads called a "responsible position" that she had never so muchas dreamed he could fill.

  Unfortunately, now that he had reached so exalted a level, there seemedto be few possibilities of promotion. There appeared only the chance, onthe one hand, that the natives would find him out and slaughter him, andon the other that Malevski would track him down and bring him back toEarth for the punishment he dreaded.

  * * * * *

  It was a good thing he had put on his helmet. Not far away, a group ofthe natives was approaching, laden with more food and flowers. It waslarger than the previous group. Evidently, as he had anticipated, theywere showing him off to newcomers.

  He came to a stately halt and waited for them to approach. He could seethe surprise on their faces as they noted his change of costume, and hewatched nervously as they stopped to whisper among themselves. It wouldbe too bad for him if they didn't like it.

  But they didn't seem to mind. One of them, a very impressive old manwith green hair flecked with red, stepped in front of the others andmade a speech, a melodious speech full of liquid sounds that wereneither quite vowels nor consonants. He didn't have the slightest ideaof what the individual words meant. But the significance of the speechas a whole was clear enough. As it came to an end, they presented himwith more food and flowers.

  Bradley cleared his throat. And then, with as deep and impressive avoice as he could manage, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, it gives megreat pleasure to accept your nomination. I promise you that if electedI shall keep none of my promises."

  It was his first speech to them, and he enjoyed making it so much thatevery time he saw them during the next few days--they settled down tocoming twice a day, morning and night--he made it again, withvariations, listing the wonderful things he would do for them if electedto the office.

  After awhile, as he began to enjoy the ceremony for its own sake, hedidn't mind at all putting the helmet on for two short periods everyday. Having so little contact with them, he could learn their languageonly very slowly. He could distinguish the word for flowers from thatfor food, although he himself could pronounce neither. He knew the namesof a few plants, a few parts of the body. And he learned a few names ofpeople. The red-green haired old man was, as close as he could make thesounds, Yanyoo. He took the trouble to notice that the prettiest girlwas Aoooya.

  * * * * *

  At first everything had been exceedingly peaceful. But about a weekafter his arrival--he couldn't be sure exactly how many days had passed,because he hadn't kept count--he learned of some of the dangers theyfaced.

  It was while they were holding the morning ceremony that the thing cameout of the forest. At first he thought that a tree had moved. It wasgreen, with reddish blotches like clusters of needle leaves, and itseemed to ooze forward toward them from among the trees. Aoooya noticedit first, and pointed and screamed. It was the size of a tiger, thoughtBradley, and might be even more dangerous. He had difficulty keepinghis eyes on the rapidly moving creature through the goggles of hishelmet. He was aware of gleaming eyes, of two rows of dull green teeth,and of muscles that rippled under the green fur.

  Several of the men had little blowpipes, through which they released ashower of darts. But the darts bounced off the fur, and the thing cameon. Bradley fumbled for his gun, and almost dropped it in hisexcitement. When he finally brought it up into aiming position, his handwas trembling, and his finger could hardly catch the trigger.

  The thing leaped into the air at the old man, Yanyoo, just as the gunwent off. The body vaporized first, leaving for a fraction of a secondthe fierce head and the powerful legs apparently supporting themselvesin the air. Then part of the head went, and the rest fell to the ground.But sheer momentum carried the green smoky vapor on, so that itsurrounded first the old man, then several of the girls, and after them,Bradley himself. They were all yelling, all but Bradley, who put awayhis gun and muttered to himself in relief, and then the wind began todissipate the vapor, and on the ground there was left only part of ahead and six torn legs.

  They were bowing to him and raising their voices high in thanks. It waseasy, thought Bradley. Really, it was a cinch to be a god. The beaststhat were such great dangers to them were mere trifles to him. To him,with a gun loaded with a thousand thermal charges each of which wascapable of blasting armor plate. The thing wouldn't even have come closeif he himself hadn't been such a timid, cowardly fool. Put Malevski inhis place, and the detective would have got the creature as it came outof the trees. He wasn't Malevski.

  It
was a good thing for him that they couldn't know that. Now hisposition was completely secure. Now he could relax and enjoy his divinelife.

  He didn't realize that a much greater danger was yet to come. He foundthat out after the evening ceremony.

  * * * * *

  The group that came to see him this time was bigger than ever.Evidently, to honor him they had dropped all other work. Yanyoo seemedto have constituted himself Bradley's priest. He made a tremendouslylong and rhapsodic-sounding speech, but at the end there was no donationof the usual food and flowers. Instead, Yanyoo backed away, all theothers doing the same, and looking at Bradley as if expecting him tofollow them.

  He followed. In this manner, with his worshippers walking respectfullybackwards, they arrived at what seemed to Bradley to be an ordinarysmall hut. Outside the hut was what he took for a curiously shaped