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  Collector's Item

  By EVELYN E. SMITH

  Illustrated by EMSH

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionDecember 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: _Being trapped in the steaming h--l of Venus is no excuse forforgetting one's manners--but anyone abducted, marooned, tricked, keptfrom tea might well crack under the strain!_]

  "What I should like to know," Professor Bernardi said, gazing pensivelyafter the lizard-man as he bore the shrieking form of Miss Anspacher offin his scaly arms, "is whether he is planning to eat her or make love toher. Because, in the latter instance, I'm not sure we should interfere.It may be her only chance."

  "Carl!" his wife cried indignantly. "That's a horrid thing to say! Youmust rescue her at once!"

  "Oh, I suppose so," he said, then gave his wife a nasty little grin thathe knew would irritate her. "It isn't that she's unattractive, my dear,in case you hadn't noticed, though she's pretty well past the bloom ofyouth--"

  "_Will_ you stop making leering noises and go save her or _not_?"

  "I was coming to that. It's just that she persists in using her Ph.D. asa club to beat men into respectful pulps. Men don't like being beateninto respectful pulps, whether by a man or a woman. Now if she'd onlylearned that other people have feelings--"

  "If you don't stop lecturing and go, I will!" his wife threatened.

  "All right, all right," he said wearily. "Come on, Mortland."

  * * * * *

  The two scientists slogged through the steamy, odorous jungle of Venusand soon reached the lizard-man, who, weighed down by his captive, hadnot been able to travel as fast.

  "You blast him," the professor told Mortland. "Try not to hit MissAnspacher, if you can manage it."

  "Er--I've never fired one of these things before," Mortland said. "Can'tstand having my eardrums blasted. However, here goes." He pointed hisweapon at the lizardlike creature in a gingerly manner. "Ah--hands up,"he ordered. "Only fair to give the--well, blighter a sporting chance,"he explained to Professor Bernardi.

  To their amazement, the lizard-man promptly dropped Miss Anspacher intothe lavender-colored mud and put up his hands. Miss Anspacher gave anindignant yelp.

  "Seems intelligent in spite of the kidnaping," Mortland commented. "Buthow does he happen to understand English? We're the only expedition everto have reached Venus ... that I know of, anyway." He and the professorstared at each other in consternation. "There may have been a secretexpedition previously and perhaps they left a--a base or something,which would explain why--"

  "If you two oafs would stop speculating, you might help me out ofhere!" Miss Anspacher remarked in her customary snappish tone. ProfessorBernardi leaped forward to obey. "You don't have to pull quite so hard!I haven't taken root yet!" She came out of the mud with a sound like twowhales kissing. She brushed hopelessly at her once-white blouse andshorts. "Oh, dear, I look a mess!"

  Professor Bernardi did not comment, being engaged in slapping at a smallwinged creature--about the size of a bluejay, but looking like a crossbetween a bat and a mosquito--that seemed interested in taking a biteout of him. It escaped his flapping hand and flew to the top ofMortland's sun helmet, where it glared at the professor.

  "Since you seem to understand English," Miss Anspacher said to thelizard-man through a mouthful of hairpins, "perhaps you will be so kindas to explain the meaning of this outrage?"

  "I was smitten," the alien replied suavely. "Passion made me forgetmyself."

  Professor Bernardi looked thoughtfully at him. "A prior expedition isn'tthe answer. It wouldn't have troubled to educate you so thoroughly.Therefore, the explanation is that you pick up English by reading ourminds. Correct?"

  The lizard-man turned an embarrassed olive. "Yes."

  * * * * *

  Now that he was able to give the creature a more thorough inspection,Bernardi saw that he really didn't look too much like a lizard. Hedefinitely appeared to be wearing clothes of some kind, which, in theVenusian heat, indicated a particularly refined degree ofcivilization--unless, of course, the squamous skin protected him fromthe heat as well as the humidity.

  More than that, though, he was humanoid in almost a Hollywood way. Hehad a particularly fine profile and an athletic physique, which, oddly,his scales seemed to enhance, much like a movie idol dressed infine-meshed Medieval armor. Naturally, he had a tail, but it was as wellproportioned as a kangaroo's, though shorter and more graceful, and itstruck Professor Bernardi as a particularly handsome and useful gadget.

  For one thing, the people from Earth were standing uncomfortably in theslippery mud, while the lizard-man was using his tail much in thefashion of a spectator stool, leaning back against it almost in asitting position, with his armor-shod feet supporting him comfortably.For another, the tail undoubtedly served for balance and the added pushof a walking stick and perhaps for swift attack or getaway. Verypractical and attractive, the professor concluded--too bad Man hadrelinquished his tail when climbing down from the trees.

  "Thank you," the saurian said with uneasy modesty, looking at him. "Goodof you to think so. You are a fairly intelligent species, aren't you?"

  "Fairly," the professor acknowledged, preoccupied with a clever idea.Perhaps existence on Venus wasn't going to be as unpleasant as he hadanticipated. "From reading my mind, you know what this blaster can do,don't you?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Then you know what I expect of you?"

  "Yes, sahib. I'se comin', massa. To hear is to obey, effendi." Thecreature turned and went briskly back toward the camp, leaving theothers to stumble after him.

  Mrs. Bernardi gave a shriek as his handsome scaled form emerged from thegreenish-white underbrush, haloed in luminous yellow mist. Algol, theship's cat, prudently took sanctuary behind her, then peered out to seewhat was going on and whether there was likely to be anything in it forhim.

  "This is our native bearer," Professor Bernardi explained as the threescientists burst out of the jungle.

  "My name is Jrann-Pttt." The creature bowed low. "At your service,madame."

  "Oh, Carl!" Mrs. Bernardi clapped her hands. "He's just perfect! Sothoughtful of you to find one that speaks English! I do hope you cancook, Pitt?"

  "I will do my best, madame."

  * * * * *

  Algol daintily picked his way through the mud toward the saurian,sniffed him with judicial deliberation; then, deciding that anyone whosmelled so much like the better class of fish must be All Right, rubbedagainst his legs.

  "Well," remarked Miss Anspacher, using the side of the spaceship as amirror by which to redden her somewhat prissy lips, "that makes itpractically unanimous, doesn't it?"

  "All except Professor Bernardi," said Jrann-Pttt, looking at thescientist with what might have been a smile. "He doesn't like me."

  "I see that your telepathic powers are not quite accurate," theprofessor returned. "I do not dislike you; I distrust you."

  "The fact that the two terms are not entirely synonymous in yourlanguage would argue a certain degree of incipient civilization," thelizard-man observed.

  "You know, Carl," Mrs. Bernardi whispered, "he has an awfully funny wayof talking, for a native."

  "Frankly I don't like this at all, Professor," Captain Greenfield said,mopping his brow with a limp handkerchief. "If I hadn't been off lookingfor a better berth for the ship--all this mud worries me--this'd neverhave
happened."

  "You mean you would have let the lizard get away with Miss Anspacher?"

  The big man's face flushed crimson. "I don't think that's funny,Professor."

  Bernardi quickly changed the subject, for he realized that the captain,being by far the most muscular of the party, was not a man to triflewith. "Tell me, Greenfield, did you succeed in finding a better spot forthe ship? I must admit I'm worried about that mud myself."

  "Only remotely dry spot around is an