Marooned on Giri Minor
You remember that the plasgun is in the commander's rucksack. She pretends to splash water on her face as you approach her. "I need something out of your backpack," you say.
"Do what you got to do, Starman," she says. "I left my pack on the shore over there."
But she's wrong; she's still fully clothed, and the pack is still on her back. You reach inside and pull out the plasgun, but with it comes one of the creatures--with a firm grip on the back of your hand. It resembles a small crab, or maybe a beetle, with over-sized pincers facing forward from its mouth. You try to flick it off you, but the tips of the pincers have pierced your skin.
The first priority is to clear the ground around you, and then you can brush yourself clean. You point the plasgun at the ground and start blasting away, sending up little plumes of dust and gravel with each shot. You like to think that you're killing dozens of the beetle-crabs at a time, but the simple fact is that there are too many.
Then you see it: the pool of crystal-clear water glistening in the moonlight, almost concealed in a basin of red rocks. Commander Andrade is floating peacefully in it. How could you have possibly not seen this a moment ago? It looks heavenly! You wade in and splash the cool liquid over your sweaty head.
In reality you are kneeling on the dry desert ground, but you are certain that you're swimming in the oasis. It is an overpowering illusion, and thus immobilized, the creatures have their way with you.
"Do what you got to do, Starman," she says. "I left my pack on the shore over there."
But she's wrong; she's still fully clothed, and the pack is still on her back. You reach inside and pull out the plasgun, but with it comes one of the creatures--with a firm grip on the back of your hand. It resembles a small crab, or maybe a beetle, with over-sized pincers facing forward from its mouth. You try to flick it off you, but the tips of the pincers have pierced your skin.
The first priority is to clear the ground around you, and then you can brush yourself clean. You point the plasgun at the ground and start blasting away, sending up little plumes of dust and gravel with each shot. You like to think that you're killing dozens of the beetle-crabs at a time, but the simple fact is that there are too many.
Then you see it: the pool of crystal-clear water glistening in the moonlight, almost concealed in a basin of red rocks. Commander Andrade is floating peacefully in it. How could you have possibly not seen this a moment ago? It looks heavenly! You wade in and splash the cool liquid over your sweaty head.
In reality you are kneeling on the dry desert ground, but you are certain that you're swimming in the oasis. It is an overpowering illusion, and thus immobilized, the creatures have their way with you.
THE END
