burned before.
Merena dropped the packet of cloud sticks and came beside him.
"What is this orange god?" she asked.
Kogar shook his head.
"It brings warmth. But I do not dare to touch it again."
Merena frowned.
"I remember," she said, "a legend told to me about an orange god when I was a child in the compounds. It is a very old legend." She turned away, walking to a pile of brush a few yards distant.
Returning with the brush, Merena placed it on the ground.
"Now," she said. "Touch the orange god to this."
Kogar obeyed. Flames crackled as a small fire grew. The two stood back, awed.
"It brings great warmth," Kogar said, pleased.
Merena nodded.
"Over it we can warm the flesh of our kill," she said. 'We must never let this orange god die."
Kogar turned the glittering object over in his hand. It stopped spurting orange. But there was still the fire at their feet. There was something cut into the side of the glittering object. And looking at it, Kogar failed to understand what the strange symbols meant.
"To Schmidt," they read, "From the Leader. To mark loyalty and devotion in our Cause. And to bind our future, greater Civilization."
Kogar shook his head bewilderedly. Then turned to Merena. The warmth from the orange god at their feet was incredibly pleasant. Kogar said,
"You are right. We must never let this die."
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"IT'S A BET!" SAYS TINK!
Tinkle and Nastee were peculiar tittle chaps! Any Irishman can tell you all about them. They were leprechauns—little goblins—only a couple of inches high. Tinkle's job was to make people happy, and Nastee's was to make them miserable. So when Nastee challenged Tinkle to a duel—they picked a victim and went to work on him . . . and how! Even if you aren't Irish, don't miss an Irishman's best short story—"TINK TAKES A HAND" . . . by William P. McGivern . . . One of the six topnotch fantasy stories in the big October issue of
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OCTOBER ISSUE ON SALE AT ALL NEWSSTANDS AUGUST 20th!
