Shakespeare's Planet by Clifford D. Simak Read Free Book Online Page B

gratification. There were stamp transmogs and chess transmogs and a lot of others, but I thought a rockhound transmog …”
    Horton pushed about the emeralds. “You say there are others?”
    â€œI would suggest,” said Nicodemus, “that we have a fortune here. An emerald mine.”
    Carnivore rumbled, “What do you mean, a fortune?”
    â€œHe is right,” said Horton. “This entire hill could be an emerald mine.”
    â€œThere pretty rocks have value?”
    â€œAmong my people, a great deal of value.”
    â€œI never heard the like,” said Carnivore. “Mad to me it sounds.” He gestured with contempt at the emeralds. “Only pretty rocks, pleasing to the eye. But what to do with them?”
    He rose slowly. “We go on,” he said.
    â€œAll right, we’ll go on,” said Horton. He handed the emeralds to Nicodemus.
    â€œBut we should look around …”
    â€œLater,” Horton said. “They’ll still be here.”
    â€œWe’ll need a survey, so that Earth …”
    â€œEarth is no longer a consideration for any of us,” said Horton. “You and Ship made that clear. No matter what happens, no matter what we find, Ship’s not going back.”
    â€œYou speak incomprehensible to me,” said Carnivore.
    â€œForgive us,” Horton told him. “It is a small private joke. Not worthy of explaining.”
    They went on down the hill and across another valley, then up another hill. This time there were no rest pauses. The sun rose higher and dispelled some of the forest gloom. The day grew warm.
    Carnivore slouched along at a ground-gaining pace which seemed easy for him, with Horton puffing along behind him and Nicodemus bringing up the rear. Watching him, Horton tried to make up his mind what kind of creature Carnivore might be. He was a slob, of course—there was no doubt of that—but a vicious, killing slob that could be dangerous. He seemed friendly enough with his continual chatter about his old friend Shakespeare, but he would bear watching. So far he had given no indication of other than bluff good humor. There was no question that the affection he held for the human, Shakespeare, had been anything but geniune, although his talk of eating Shakespeare still rankled. His nonrecognition of the value of emeralds was a puzzling factor. It seemed impossible that any culture should fail to recognize the value of gemstones, unless it were a culture which had no concept of adornment.
    From the last hill they had climbed, they went down, not into a valley, but into a cuplike depression rimmed by hills. Carnivore stopped so suddenly that Horton, walking behind him, bumped into him.
    â€œThere it be,” said Carnivore, pointing. “You can see it from here. We almost are upon it.”
    Horton looked where he was pointing. He could see nothing but the forest.
    â€œThat white thing?” asked Nicodemus.
    â€œThat is it,” said Carnivore, delighted. “That is it, the whiteness of it. I keep it clean and white, scrubbing off the tiny plants that essay to grow upon it, washing off the dust. Shakespeare called it Grecian. Can you tell me, sir or robot, what a Grecian is? I inquire of Shakespeare, but he only laugh and shake his head and say too long a story. I think at times he does not know himself. He only used a word he heard.”
    â€œGrecian comes from a human folk called Greeks,” said Horton. “They achieved a greatness many centuries ago. A building built as they once built is called Grecian. It is a very general term. There are many factors to Grecian architecture.”
    â€œSimply built,” said Carnivore. “Wall and roof and door. That is all it is. Good habitat to live in, though. Tight to wind and rain. Do you not see it yet?”
    Horton shook his head. “Soon you will,” said Carnivore. “We be there very quickly.”
    They went on