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Words: 12852 in 7 pages
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Illustrator: Emsh
THE WORSHIPPERS
BY DAMON KNIGHT
ILLUSTRATED BY EMSH
Destiny reached out a hand to Algernon Weaver--but he was a timid man, at first. But on the strange world of Terranova, there was much to be learned--of destiny, and other things....
He had held that opinion, he reminded himself gratefully, from the very beginning, when it was easy to think otherwise. Afterward, of course--when the first star ships came back with the news that space was aswarm with creatures who did not even resemble Man, and had never heard of him, and did not think much of him when they saw him.... Well, who but an idiot could hold any other opinion?
If only the Creator had not seen fit to make so many human beings in His image but without His common sense....
Well, if He hadn't then for one thing, Weaver would not have been where he was now, staring out an octagonal porthole at an endless sea of diamond-pierced blackness, with the empty ship humming to itself all around him.
It was an entirely different thing, he told himself; there were no names, and no descriptions, and no feeling of going from one known place to another known place. It was more like--
It was like standing outdoors, on a still summer night, and looking up at the dizzying depths of the stars. And then looking down, to discover that there was no planet under your feet--and that you were all alone in that alien gulf....
It was enough to make a grown man cry; and Weaver had cried, often, in the empty red twilight of the ship, feeling himself hopelessly and forever cut off, cast out and forgotten. But as the weeks passed, a kind of numbness had overtaken him, till now, when he looked out the porthole at the incredible depth of sky, he felt no emotion but a thin, disapproving regret.
That was the trouble, it began to sound like an obituary. And then the great humming metal shell would begin to feel like a coffin....
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