Nobody on Venus knew if the dragonbird
was flesh and blood or a robot. But one thing
was certain—some men would kill to find out!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
December 1956
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Dan Elliot sat in the muggy gloom of the Vestend Bar on the outskirtsof Venus City, and grinned at his reflection in the mottled mirror.
"Congratulations," he said to himself. "You are now the owner of theSpace Needle II."
It had taken him five years, but it was worth it. The insurance moneyfrom the crashed Space Needle had just barely covered the downpayment on the new ship, and it had taken five years to pay for therest of it.
But now—the ship was his. And he was celebrating. The only trouble wasthe final payment had nearly left him penniless, and the only place hecould afford to bend an elbow was a dive like the Vestend.
Suddenly someone lurched against his back, and the drink in his handslopped over the bar.
"Why don't you watch what you're doin' buddy?" a harsh voice said.
Elliot turned around. "I didn't—"
"Oh, a wise guy, eh?"
Customers began to draw around the bickering duo. Elliot sized up hisantagonist—a burly, nondescript man with a seam running down from oneear to his chin.
"I'm not looking for trouble," Elliot said. "But if—"
A fist erupted from nowhere and sent him spinning back against the bar.He elbowed up and drove a punch into the burly man's stomach, followedwith a ringing blow to the jaw. The other staggered—
And a third entered the brawl. Elliot felt a punch rake across hisface, blocked a kick aimed for his groin, and barrelled across theroom, striking out angrily at his assailants. By now the room wasfilled with moving, cursing, gesticulating men, while the bartenderducked to safety.
Elliot plunged through the mob and found the man who had struck him thefirst time. He seized him by the collar and drove him to the floor,just as someone yelled, "Watch that table!"
He turned—not nearly in time. The flying table caught the back of hishead with a sickening thunk, and he dropped unconscious to the floor.
A cold rag splashed wetly on his face, and a heavy voice said: "Bringhim out of it. He's not badly hurt."
Elliot opened his eyes slowly. He was no longer in the Vestend, but ina large, well-decorated office. Behind a gleaming-surfaced desk sat ashort, fat man with jowls that jiggled as he spoke, and standing tohis left was a brawny, not-too-intelligent-looking man with a heavyspacetan.
"How do you feel, Mr. Elliot?" the fat man asked.
"All right, I guess." He rubbed the back of his head. "What happened?"
"You got in a fight. Fortunately Sam, here, got you out."
Elliot looked at his benefactor. "Thanks, pal."
Sam shrugged morosely.
The fat man steepled his fingers and leaned forward solicitously. "Tellme—aren't you the Daniel Elliot who cracked up a spaceship in thejungles five years ago?"
"That's me," Elliot said.
The fat man nodded. "Mr. Elliot, I understand that you were nearthe Venusian Temple of Light—that you actually saw the Dragonbirdwith your own eyes. Can you tell me if the thing is a robot or is itactually alive?"
Elliot grinned. He had seen the fabulous bird from the jungle, hiddenfrom the Venusian priests who worshipped it, but even at a distance hecould tell the thing was alive. No robot could have moved with suchsinuous grace. "It's real," he said.
T