ascended from his leg up through his chest and tohis neck. But it didn't matter. Now, for a last time, he could feel thespell of that perfect friendship--before the end.
What end? Why should there be any end to this eternal moment?
Curtis noticed him now. Those half-closed eyes were strangelypenetrating. They looked him through.
"Well, Al," he said, "so you killed Schaughtowl?"
Stern looked at the kindly, godlike face and loved it.
Killed whom?
"Poor Al," Curtis said. He leaned over and laid his hand on the back ofStern's neck, fondling it much as one would a dog. "Poor old Al."
Stern's heart leaped in joy. This was ecstasy. It must be expressed. Itdemanded expression. If he had possessed a tail, he would have waggedit. Perhaps there was a word for that bliss. There was, and with immensesatisfaction he spoke it.
"Gull Lup," he said.
--LUCIUS DANIEL
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ April 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.